Category Archives: Silly Video Game Inspired Fiction

Tagged as boring, exciting, reading, video games

March 5, 2022 · 10:39 am

Interview with a Zombie

“Good evening, I’m Pat Smith and let’s get straight to tonight’s top story: there’s an apparent catastrophe brewing in Metropolis City.”

Moving away from the TV screen, one could see sunlight filter through the windows, beckoning pasty-faced gamers to run and tumble outside. Mike decided he would rather play. He turned away from the light and picked up his controller to continue playing a video game. He started watching the screen as the game’s cut-scene further unfolded on his TV.

“Xgy News’ own Gord Howe is on the scene to interview a resident of the city. Gord?”

The game cut to a shot of the city’s downtown. Several tumbling tumble weeds rolled by on the screen. Time inched forward like a three-legged turtle who had seen better days. The camera cut to a major intersection within the city’s downtown core.

Two large buses, as well as two stuffed garbage trucks, were parked diagonally, blocking the intersection. Inside the vehicles, the lights were still on, the doors still open, and there was still piping hot coffee on the floor of the bus. Packages, parcels, and newspapers littered the bus seats, and one can imagine the streets reeking of rotten eggs since soiled garbage bags blanketed the ground.

At last, a reporter popped up on the screen. “Hi Pat, yes, we are here in downtown Metropolis City and…”

“Grrrrrrr!” This strange sound seem to come from somewhere behind the reporter.

“Uh I’m not sure what that was, Pat, but we’re now going to interview a resident about what happened here.” Gord stretched out his finger and tapped a maggot infested man; his shoulder fell to the ground with a splat. The reporter cleared his throat and asked, “What exactly happened here, sir?”

“Grrrrrrrr grrrrr grrr!”

“Okay,” Gord replied, “do you have anything to add?”

“Frrrrrrreeedoom!” bellowed the zombie. Bellowed with such force, in fact, that the same zombie’s jaw plopped off his face, and Gord’s hair piece went flying off of his head. Gord’s eyes became as wide as extra large pepperoni slices, and he dashed off in search of his hair.

“Ba-back to you,” Gord sheepishly concluded.

In the newsroom, Pat’s mouth hung open. “Well,” he said after clearing his throat, “there you have it folks. Stay tuned tomorrow for more updates from downtown.”

After the cut-scene ended, Mike pressed pause on his controller. “Hmmmm,” he thought, “That was a strange episode. I wonder what will happen next in this crazy world?” He picked up the controller to play.

Tagged as COVID, freedom convoy, video games, zombies

December 13, 2020 · 1:08 pm

Karl Marx Played My Video Game

He Liked It?

I traveled back in time to let Karl play.

The most impressive part of that adventure, for me, was what he said.

He sat on a couch resting his chin on his fist, which was stained red because he had begun painting his new house’s white picket fence.

As I lay in wait, my heart bumped faster than the beats coming out of a techno DJ’s speakers.

He burned holes in the TV with his eyes and stroked his long beard, before delivering his verdict:

“This so-called video game shall one day be the second greatest opiate of the people.”

That was all I needed to hear; I was already on my way out once the last spittle flew out of his mouth.

I traveled back to the present faster than a Stalinist-era judge would deliver his show trial verdict.

What do I make of the prediction?

On the one hand, I was pleased my game would relax people and sell out.

On the other hand, I wasn’t too keen on brainwashing the masses…

Time would tell, I thought.

Oh, damn, I left the game with him!

Tagged as time travel, video games

August 11, 2020 · 10:02 pm

The Dog Ate My Pollen

A snake-like line has formed outside of a bee’s nest. A bee with muscles the size of acorns blocks the entrance with a towering golden scepter. Bees, exhausted from overwork, bumble about and trip over each other while jostling to join the line. Our busy Billy, also known as Worker 769, makes his appearance at the front.

“Worker 769, show me your pollen”, said the bulky bee.

“Uhhh the dog ate my pollen”, said Billy.

“You expect me to believe that? Come on, pal, we all know you were playing video games again instead of serving her majesty. You have no sense of responsibility. What purpose do you serve?” The bulky bee jabbed Billy with the scepter, pushing him out of the line.

Billy felt as if he had been stung and wanted to sting back, but he resisted.

“You know what? I don’t need this. I don’t need this colony. I’m going to start something of my own.”

He rubbed the dust off of his abdomen and prepared for take off. “And you’re lucky I don’t dump all of your precious honey into the nearby harbour as I leave. Humph!”

Billy buzzed away in search of greener pastures and better days.

1 Comment

Tagged as bees, video games, work

December 2, 2019 · 7:48 pm

I Fled the Scene on Foot

The story began when Jane invited me to play video games at her apartment. Her apartment had no cobwebs, dust bunnies, or video game discs lying outside of their cases. Upon seeing my own reflection on the spotless floor, I tensed up and tried to loosen my collar. “How do I stand a chance?” I asked myself, “my pigsty isn’t even half as clean as this. I’m making her place dirty just by standing here.”

“Hey, let’s play that Japanese game I told you about,” said Jane. I could not nod. I could not speak. I showed my teeth. I blinked. I suppose that was, under the circumstances, my way of smiling and agreeing. “Uh, okay,” she said as she rolled her eyes about ninety degrees and scrunched up her lips. “I’ll go get us some snacks,” she said before marching off to the kitchen and disappearing.

I could not hear a single sound as I stood in her living room. I was alone, except for a tiny spider near the fireplace, and started to feel a rumble in my stomach. I took my mind off the loneliness by scanning her shelves of video games, guessing which game we were going to play. The alarm bells went off in my head after I saw the only game with Japanese text on the box. Do not expect a good translation; in fact, you should not expect a translation at all. I do not know Japanese.

I thought I should check the game out — get to know it a bit. I reached for the game box, but my left arm shook so bad that I had to steady it with my right. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and yanked the game from its house with one swift stroke.

My eyes grew wide as I opened the game case: the disc was loose and was sliding out of its box toward the floor! The clock’s second hand moved at a glacial pace, the spider moved one leg in the time I could run a marathon, which would take me forever, and the game lurched towards the floor at a rate slower than a blob of dripping molasses. My mouth fell open. Sweat poured down my forehead like a river.

“I can’t wait to show this ultra-rare game that I had imported,” she said from the kitchen while washing her hands.

The game hit the floor with a thud that made me shake like it was a quake, and I blinked. A massive crack formed in the disc as if there were plate tectonics at work under its surface. But, I thought,
“That just happened. There’s no going back.”

Still staring with wide eyes at the disc, I backed away towards the door. I closed it without blinking and, I ran faster than my young lungs would allow.

Not long after my hastened departure, Jane emerged from the kitchen bearing a platter of fine cheeses and crackers. She had put the snacks down on the coffee table when she saw the cracked disc. She furrowed her brow and said, “What’s that dusty demo copy doing on the ground?” Without batting an eyelash, she threw the old disc into the trash.

She unlocked a chest on her coffee table using a golden key that she wore around her neck. A shiny disc emerged. “And what happened to Adam?” she asked herself. Jane shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the couch to play her golden game.

Tagged as anxiety, break, video games

October 21, 2019 · 8:16 pm

Gunning for You in 2052

It was a typical day in space. An asteroid shot by faster than a bullet and hit the top of the Moon. Drills as tall as skyscrapers added bigger and deeper craters to the already pockmarked surface of the Moon. Astronauts performed delicate ballet-like moves as they jumped to and fro on the surface. However, no chorus of angels or symphony orchestrated their choreography: they were on a mission to find minerals.

“Austin, Austin, can you read me? Over.”

“This is Austin. We read you loud and clear, Gurdeep. What’s the project status? Over.”

“We have all drills running, and we’re proceeding ahead of schedule. Should I give a full report to Mr. Houston?” said Commander Gurdeep.

“Excellent! Mr. Houston’s gone to grab a cup o’ joe. Do a full data analysis and beam it back to earth. Don’t forget to have T.O.M. check on the drills later.”

Gurdeep said, “Will do. Have a good night, Austin.”

“You too. Over and out,” replied Austin.

Gurdeep hopped and skipped to a Moon Lander that had a large camera mounted on it. He looked straight into the camera and spoke to an A.I., “Hey T.O.M., how’s it goin'”?

“Bah!” said T.O.M. “I’m tired of this tedious sifting. A big dot above the camera moved toward the left, pointing toward a group of astronauts that T.O.M. was speaking about. These astronauts used large metal sieves to sift through mountains of Moon rocks. The dot moved back to its original position before it started to appear sunken and deflated. T.O.M. said, “I wish I could play right now.”

“You can finish playing your games after you’ve sorted through your rocks,” said Gurdeep.

“Ugggh! Fine. I guess it’s back to the salt mines for me,” T.O.M. said.

Gurdeep cleared his throat and said, “Alright, now I’ve got to record my report to Mr. Houston. Please start the recording, T.O.M.”

Click.

“On March 6, 2051,” Gurdeep said, “I explored a crater on the dark side of the moon and found space dust, rocks and some kind of weird case. I think I threw away the case because it seemed irrelevant to the mission.” Gurdeep rambled on, and the dot above T.O.M.’s camera rolled around in circles — never again focusing on the astronaut.

Instead, T.O.M. scanned the pile of space rocks that Gurdeep had dumped in front of his camera. As T.O.M. scanned, his sensors found a piece of plastic in the pile. “That’s odd,” he thought, “because Earth and the Moon had banned and eradicated all traces of plastics in 2030.” Anyway, he looked closer and saw it was, in fact, a case. T.O.M. used his retractable arm to flip the case over, and a video game disc fell out. He picked up the disc with his arm and moved it closer to the camera to scan it.

The title read “Invader from Space!” Looking closer, T.O.M. saw a Martian with an automatic blaster, a menacing grin and an air quote that read, “We’re coming for you in 2052!”

“Oh boy,” though T.O.M., “I can’t wait!”

Tagged as AI, space, story, video games

October 7, 2019 · 8:43 pm

A Tale of Two Trash Cans

Sara started playing her video game without a care in the world. Her character ran around the town helping villagers. One spectre haunted the town: the smell of rotting garbage that rats grew fat on it.

Sara’s character took action into her own hands. She challenged the rats’ king to a gallant sword fight. She snapped the king’s sword in half and sent the lot of them scurrying for cover in the sewer, and the villagers gave her warms hugs. This victory over the king was just the start of the character’s good work.

Sara’s character sauntered around the town, throwing out everyone’s trash. When she emptied the last trash can, the villagers held a celebration. The fireworks were deafening! The gold flowed towards her like a running river. They even painted a massive portrait of her character ascending into heaven. The corners of Sara’s lips curled into a smile warm enough to melt ice.

Suddenly Sara was jolted from this fantasy slumber when her roommate Samara entered the room and said, “Hey, what have you been doing all day?” Before Sara could reply, Samara spoke again, “I’ve just run a mile, filed my taxes and strategized paradigm shifts for my meeting.”

Sara hit pause on the game and said, “I had oatmeal and took out the garbage.”

“Pfft! Took out the trash,” Samara muttered as she turned around and walked away. She walked away so tall and so straight that one could have mistaken her for a steel poll.

Sara looked at Samara’s back for two seconds. She glanced at the TV screen. She scratched her head. After all of that, she shrugged her shoulders and kept playing her game.

Tagged as chores, life, meaning, trash, video games

June 24, 2019 · 8:47 pm

If Teddy Bears Made Video Games

Outside, last night’s snow covered half of the video game studio’s windows. Ice had consumed the window’s other half and left ornate paisley patterns on the glass. Inside, John, the manager of the studio, put on a sweater and stood up like a massive concrete pillar: no one was going to move him with words or deeds. “Fuzzy,” said John, “make sure your team finishes those trees today. I told you three weeks ago that they’re going in the first level. Come on now!”

John swung around on his left foot and started walking away, his flip flops clicking and clacking, before Fuzzy could reply. Fuzzy jumped out of his chair, high into the air and landed softer than a feather. His face was just visible above his computer monitor. “What happened to you, John? You used to be beautiful. All you care about now is making a profit!”

The other bears’ clicking, typing and munching of pizza ceased. If one had entered the studio at that moment and judged the environment solely based on sound, one could be forgiven for thinking it was a ghost town. The bears’ mouths dropped open in unison, and their heads — as if magnetically attracted to conflict — turned toward Fuzzy and John.

John tensed up, his left eye started to twitch and he shook before he swung around fast enough to drop his briefcase. A flood of papers consumed the floor. His eyes turned a fiery red. John managed to calm down enough to scoop up some of the crumpled documents, held them over his head and started shaking them. “I suppose you think these are going to pay themselves. “Maybe,” he said as he ran towards the roaring fireplace, “I should just burn them and put this place out of its misery.” John threw some of the papers in the fire and cackled as he watched them turn into a cinder. He reached to pick up more papers; instead, he picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels on the mantelpiece, and he took a swig.

Fuzzy stared straight ahead at John and had not flinched or blinked yet. Fuzzy’s eyes narrowed, his eyebrows became diagonal and his voice was unwavering, “And we haven’t been on a picnic for a year!”

John took another swig and threw the Jack into the fire. The flames leaped out further than normal, singeing the hairs of a stuffed animal in front of the fireplace. John paid the fire no attention, but his eyes mirrored the raging inferno next to him. All the bears except Fuzzy hid under their desks and covered their ears.

“I told you there’s not enough money in the piggy bank for you guys to go on picnics whenever you feel like it,” said John. “Johnny,” Fuzzy said, “I know you’re still the same old guy who used to play ball and eat ham sandwiches with us in the park. I know you.” John swung around again so he could be alone and stared at the ground. A hot tear fell down his cold cheek. He started to whimper but bit his lip and pivoted on his right foot to face Fuzzy.

John looked up at the bear, a smile started appearing on his face, and he said, “O—Ok, you guys can go for a picnic.” “Woohoo!”, the bears screamed with delight. Fuzzy gave John a pat on the back, and the two old friends defused their tense standoff with a shared smile.

The bears all ran out the front door. Some carried wicker baskets while others did cartwheels, danced, skipped and jumped through the thick snow. They kept doing this until they all fell face first into a snow bank. The delicate white powder covered their furry faces and snouts.

“Uh, are you guys ok?” asked John. “Yeah!” they all yelled together. And off they ran during a cold winter’s day to have their picnic. The cold did not bother them, for they were warm and fuzzy teddy bears.

Tagged as good attitude, teddy bears, video games, warm, work

June 10, 2019 · 7:32 pm

When Life Throws Tomatoes at You

Tom almost burst with enthusiasm as he hopped onto the stage to debut his new video game.

“Hey everyone!”, he said. “allow me to show you the next big thing in gaming.”

He clicked a button, the lights turned low and screenshots of his game cycled through on a massive screen. As Tom scanned the crowd to gauge their initial impressions, he felt drops of sweat pour down his forehead. He wiped his brow before he continued .

“I’ve listened to your feedback on my previous games,” he said, “and this time I incorporated some of your thoughts into this one.” Tom saw a couple of eyes twinkle and huge smiles, with glowing white teeth, became visible.

“But this time I decided to make it a freemium game.”

Now the audiences transformed into a bunch of belligerent Hydes. They contorted their faces in a grotesque manner and their booing rendered Tom’s speech inaudible. Suddenly, red blobs flew through the darkness and splatted on the stage. They were tomatoes! Tom ducked and searched for cover to no avail. He tried to run off the stage. Instead, he slid on the red mash and landed face-first before fading to black.

***

When he awoke, all he saw was red. If Tom had been a character in his game, his vision would return and his wounds would heal after avoiding gunfire for several seconds. But Tom had not yet developed a way to heal human beings or give them clearer vision; that was beyond him as a game developer. He rubbed his aching head, which hurt as if he had been partying all night. Except he was alone. The audience was gone.

The janitor, wearing a dark blue uniform, was now the only other person in the auditorium. The janitor swept up all of the dirt, plastic cups and garbage into a massive landfill in the corner of the room.

Tom stumbled toward the edge of the stage and sat on it. His already oblong face seemed longer than normal. He sat there and licked some of the tomato juice from his mustache. “Mmmm. At least it’s tasy,” he thought, even though his eyes were downcast.

The janitor stopped sweeping for a moment and glanced at his only friend in the room. “Hey buddy,” said the janitor, “I think you got something on your face.”

As he sat there, a piece of tomato pulp slid down Tom’s cheek and splatted on the stage. He sighed with enough force to blow dead leaves off autumnal trees. The rest of the night was a blur for Tom.

***

Tom woke up possessed: he had been slaving for hours behind a hot pot on the stove without remembering how he got there. His girlfriend entered the room, grabbed a big wooden spoon and dunked it into the pot. She licked the spoon clean and nodded. She titled her head and looked upward before her eyes lit up and seemed to jump out of her head.

“Wow! That tastes better than my nonna’s sauce, just don’t tell her I said that haha. Most tomatoes are pretty bland this time of year. How’d you do it?”, she asked.

Tom winked at her.

“It’s a secret,” he said.

Tagged as failure, food, tomatoes, video games

March 11, 2019 · 8:34 pm

Run It in Recovery Mode

Electricity surged through the cold, steel fence and emitted a faint bluish hue. My plan was to hop over said fence, but first I had to cut the power source feeding the fence’s deadly defenses. With the power cut, my character jumped but didn’t get far. I heard a zap sound and the brightness on the screen blinded me for several seconds. My character’s limp body fell to the ground with a thud. He was gone.

I slammed my controller on the coffee table in front of me, and it shook my beer. I watched in horror as the bottle tipped over and spilled its golden liquid all over my console. As a result of the spill, my console started to fry and then smoke billowed out of the top. The screen began to wobble, the picture quality was out of focus and looking at the video game made me feel dizzy as if I was wearing beer goggles. I sat there, on the couch, and my only thought was, “What is going to happen to the machine?” My face started to turn red and sweat poured down my cheek as I ruminated on this question. To counteract the heat, I poured some of the cold beer on my face and slapped my cheek. I shook my head until it hurt and my eyes opened wide. I could see the light: I knew what I must do to fix the machine.

I “ran” to the back of the console, which was only three feet in front of me, and bruised my knee after nearly tripping over the coffee table. I saw a shiny, red button covered by a glass case on the back of the console. There was white text scribbled on the glass that read, “Run in Recovery Mode.” The glass cover, I noticed, seemed to have a tractor beam: it pulled the index finger on my left hand closer and closer. Yet I had no idea what would happen if I tapped this button.

I stretched out my right hand, intercepted my index finger and pushed it away from its glass-cover trajectory. However, my index finger broke free and continued its initial flight path toward the cover, inching closer and closer to its mysterious target. With my free right hand, I splashed more cold beer on my face and took a swig of the bottle’s final droplets; this steadied my shaking legs. By now, my finger had made contact with the glass. In a flash, I flipped open the cover and tapped the button. Now I had done it.

As I stood in front of the console, I felt what I can only describe as part of myself “breaking away”. I turned around and saw a ghostly version of myself, featuring a pale blue and fuzzy white aura, as it walked in reverse until it both reached and sat down on the couch. The aura’s appearance reminded me of something like the quality one would get from a VHS tape. I looked straight ahead to see the smoke fly back into the console; the beer bottle stand at attention, with its contents refilled; and the sounds of button tapping as the controller flew back into my hands. That’s when things got weird.

Both versions of myself melded together again, then I shot through the ceiling and propelled out of this universe. I flew so fast past countless sparkly planets and nebulae that my head was spinning like a vinyl record. After traveling this way for some time, I stopped seeing planets and only saw bright neon colors and strange abstract patterns. It was a bit like speeding down the Las Vegas strip at speeds that defied one’s imagination . Instead of crashing at a dead-end, I landed in what I can only describe as a soup or lava lamp. Blobs of red lava, against a turmeric hued yellow background, bounced around and gravitated up. I reached the top of whatever structure was holding me back and jumped for freedom. I was free — for the moment.

After jumping out of the structure, I lost all control and hurtled through earth’s atmosphere. The wind was rushing through my hair as I burst through collections of clouds. You know, I slept through the cloud stuff in science class, my head and body somewhere down on the ground, but I can confirm these things are not made of marshmallows. With only the clouds to slow me down and no parachute, I crashed through my roof and landed on my kitchen floor.

Several minute later, I blinked, my eyes opened and I found myself standing near the fridge with a cold beer in my hand. I glanced at the ceiling and saw no damage. I glanced at the console and saw it was in pristine shape. All I can say is think twice before you run recovery mode.