The lights dim and the curtains rise on the two competing teams. The players, who cannot hear the deafening crowd from their sound-proof booths, tense and untense their hands in anticipation, their fingers dancing over the keys and mouse. The buzzer. They snap on their work gloves, some pick up mops and buckets, and spread out, ready to work -- this docking bay won't clean itself. In the audience a father leans over to his son and says, "See, this is how it's done. You should do this." His son clutches his Meepo figurine tighter, deliberately ignoring him.