Category Archives: Silly Video Game Inspired Fiction

The Bullet Sponge Cometh

It slowly walked in a straight line towards its enemies, like it was wading through molasses. Its heart pounded so loudly that it sounded like someone striking an anvil in Giuseppe Verdi’s opera Il trovatore. The beating sound was so loud that even the enemies, over the crackle of their guns, could hear. But was it, with its beating heart, alive?

Nobody knows. Certainly it wasn’t hurt. The bullets bounced off as if they were rubber balls hitting a brick wall. And like a mindless tank enduring a barrage of pebbles, it felt nothing and kept moving forward.

It eschewed taking cover along the way. Cover, it thought, would make it seem weaker and much less of a masculine machine.

The bullets were useless against it. But the bullets increased until they were like a plague of locusts enveloping everything. One could not breath through one’s nose or mouth without introducing bullets into those orifices. And the air reeked of hot lead.

Yet, like a new-born babe, it did not have a single scratch on its cheeks, and it did not suffer from smoke inhalation. However, the price for this invincibility was dark red vision. Everywhere it went and it saw everything through blood-red lenses. There was no time for love or friendship.

At last, it reached the enemy, and it engaged in a punching match as if it was playing Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots. It was like a robot who didn’t feel pain, nor did he care about others’ pain. This is the life of a bullet sponge.


I’ve heard people describe some video game characters as bullet sponges. I tried to describe how the bullet sponge acts.

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Untold Story of a Blockbuster Game

A rooster crowed as Jack rubbed his eyes.

“Wait, what? When did I get a rooster?”

Sure enough, the rooster crowed as it pecked at a carpet of newspapers laid out on the floor.

Then he rubbed his temples and the fog cleared in his mind. Now he saw clearly, as the light streamed through the windows, that his apartment was a disaster zone. He remembered only fleeting images of a booze soaked nights, but the empty bottles and greasy pizza boxes refreshed his memory.

Jack Smith, a video game developer, tip-toed and carefully lifted his long gangly legs over the mess. The rotting, fly infested garbage inspired Jack to do something great.

“I decided on making a game called Happy Pizza Beer Party then and there. I hadn’t fully planned out what the game was yet, but I knew my life would chang forever. My previous games hadn’t worked out. I alienated friends, co-workers and teammates during production with my boorish behaviour. I figured I was about due this time for success.”

Smith liked to party, to take risks and gamble. He had saved up enough change after years of playing cards to create this game. “I felt like nothing could stop me from making this game,” he said.

Smith spent half of his money to work on the concept alone. To do it, he went to the local bar. The bartender asked, “What will you have? The usual?” “Nah, I’ll have a cocktail napkin,” he replied.

The bewildered bartender handed over the white square. “Something wrong?,” he asked. Smith was busy scribbling down the game’s concept on a napkin and ignored the bartender. He wrote these words “drinking and pizza eating simulator and/ or competition.”

After a couple of drinks, Smith fleshed out his central idea. Players would have to balance their health meter while they aimed to guzzle the most beer and devour trays of pizza. They could tap buttons at a certain speed to pace their digestion and stay alive. Players would need to balance health with the urge to eat.

To realize his plans for the game, Jack assembled a team of game developers in New York City. First he had to test their mettle in a drink-off.  He subjected the winners who still stood after downing a keg to a pizza show down. Smith thought the nine winners of these competitions had proven their dedication to him, and by extension, his video game. He hired them and they started developing the game in March 2012.

Sadly, a wave of misfortune hit the team as they worked. They couldn’t afford to hire extra staff so each team member had to work twice as hard. When the team lost government funding, they let go of two employees and lived off of ramen. They had hit rock bottom. But Smith refused to give up and forced the team to work on weekends. In fact, finishing the game became his obsession destroying his relationships with everyone.

As one ex employee said “He was like a dictator, and we followed orders to stay alive. All hands were on deck to finish the game.”

The team finished a prototype one year after they started work on the game. They paraded the game at local conventions where the air was thick with nerd sweat. The feedback they received led them to revise the game, submit it to publishers, then throw it out and start again.

Two months later, the team squashed all the bugs and released the game. Jack’s team spent $2 million dollars making the game and sold it for $10. Jack and the team received universal praise from fans and critics. The fans wrote love letters to the team. Almost every critic had something positive to say about the game.

Video games Nebula called it “…a breath taking revelation, an electrifying experience made all the more intense because I accidentally dropped a toaster in the bathtub while playing.” However, some guy in pajamas in his parent’s basement called it “sub par” and said he’d “rather spend time with his blow up doll.” But that guy was the exception.

The game went on to sell millions of copies worldwide. Jack summed up the game’s significance best: “Wow! I can’t believe it worked. Never has so much creativity come from binge drinking.”


Sometimes I wonder about the origin stories of my favourite games. Did any of them have similar stories? I have immense respect, though, for the hardworking developers who make games.

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Run! Frankengame is Coming

Once upon a time, a doctor toiled away on a secret experiment in his lab. It was midnight.

Outside, the town clock struck twelve and seemed to echo even into the depths of the bunker-like lab. Lightning ripped through the sky and cracked trees in half.

But the good doctor didn’t seem to notice. He hadn’t spent all that time knee dump in garbage at the dump for nothing.

His garbage dump finds–which smelled like rotten fish–included thousands of games that littered the lab. His humpbacked and bucktoothed old assistant, Igor, had scattered old school consoles of every kind on the floor. It was a wonder anyone could work in that space.

The doctor fused parts together with crazy glue. He was going to use his creation to help mankind. Or at least that’s how he rationalized the work.

“This is good, goooood. Soon I will unleash my creature upon the world, and it will never be the same. I’m going to change the world forever. Muhahahahah!”

He rubbed his long and stained hands together with so much excitement that they almost caught fire. Then he unleashed a terrible cackle that would have sent chills up the spine of any human being.

The mad doctor leaned forward and flipped a red candy-like button with both hands, breaking a sweat.

The electricity caused the doctor’s hair to frizz, burn and smoke. He stared intensely as his creature began to rise from the table.

“It’s alive!” He screamed louder than a banshee.

The creature possessed a strange mix of abilities.

  • Electricity surged through it’s body like Pikachu. Nothing could touch it without getting fried.
  • It drove around in Bowser’s kart and shot out red shells.
  • Pedestrians walk but the creature flew around on Ratchet’s hover boots.
  • It wore a fine, hand tailored Italian suit–with the Nanotech upgrade from Crysis.
  • It had the sneaky skills of Sly Cooper.
  • It had a carboard box to hide in when enemies were around the corner.
  • It had the luck of Master Chief, as well as Cortana for a guide.
  • It could copy the super powers of others just like Kirby.
  • Like Nathan Drake, it could sniff out treasure in every nook. I mean, the creature has to support itself somehow, right?
  • The rapping skills of Parappa the Rapper, just in case it ever got into a wild rap battle.

The good/mad doctor leaned in close, his eyes sparkling like diamonds as the creature moved its mouth. It started to form a word. It said…

To be continued…


What would your Frankengame character look like? What strange mix of powers would it have?

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Time Traveling to Play Video Games

Super Mario Bros is a good game because you get to save a princess.

Mario goes on a journey to save her. He jumps so much and picks up shiny coins. Jumping and collecting coins is fun. Jumping on bad guys is also fun.

Sometimes Mario jumps, falls and disappears. Where did he go? Do you know? I don’t. Tell me. Come on!

Then he comes back and everything is great. I get to play the game again.

It looks so good. There are flying turtles and mushrooms. I wonder if they taste good? Does Mario cook them?

You have to move forward to reach the end of the world. Fireballs burn. Run! Run! I hid in a pipe for a moment to escape them.

Then I found the princess because my big brother helped me. Mario loves her and saves her from a bad guy. Do they get married?

This game is fun if you like to jump.

P.S. Time for my nap.

By Adam age 10?

Anyway, to write this post, I channeled my inner child. When that didn’t work, I traveled back in time with a certain device to write with my childhood self.

Nah, I tried to imagine how the ten-year old me would write a post about video games. You read the result, but I have no memory of how I wrote as a child. It’s a guess.

Have you ever tried to write like your childhood self? Did you ever write anything about video games as a child? Are you willing to share and embarrass — maybe — yourself?

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I Can Walk on The Moon (and You Can Too)

moonThere I was taking giant leaps for mankind and almost tripping over moon rocks in the process. My jumps were just too impressive to ignore. Sometimes I chained multiple sets of jumps together to reach the top of a space mountain.

The other astronauts wanted to know where and how I learned to time my jumps. I started telling them about my friend, a mustachioed Italian plumber who taught me.

Wham!

I hit the lip of a cliff, tumbled down and landed in a bad place.

I almost drowned in the sea of tranquility. A landslide of rock and dust slapped me in the face, and I sank to the bottom. But I woke up and dragged myself out of the rusty rubble.

When I got up and dusted the space dirt of my lily-white space suit shoulder, I recognized life. Not just my life returning. No. It was more than that. It was a large blue bauble teeming with life not to far away.

I thought about all those stick figures back home. They sat with their eyes glued to screens. They took everything for granted.

Meanwhile, I was drilling holes on another planetary body for the good of us all. I also took samples so they could sit in a museum and collect dust. They weren’t doing that.

Then Mr. Houston interrupted my space train of thought. “Jim, you there?” he said.

“Roger, roger HQ,” I said as my drill slid through the rocks like a knife through warm butter. “Hear ya loud and clear.”

“Jim, get the last of those rocks and bring ’em back to earth. We need them to save humanity. And Jim…”

“Yeah?” I folded the ten foot drill up and threw it in my space backpack.

“We’re all rooting for you down here.” Mr. Houston’s voice became as silent as the vacuum of space. Then he said, “Get back in one piece.”

As I put away the final sample into a space doggy bag, I gulped hard. Then I heard a strange gurgling sound behind me. I turned around to see a huge eight foot hazy figure.

That’s when I was face to face with a hideous, ragged monster that made big foot look like an annoying mosquito. It’s pearly white fangs had blood dripping from their tips. It extended its arm and lunged toward me. An epic space battle was about to unfold.

And it all began when I pressed start.


People think that traveling into space is both a great mental and physical challenge. Well, they’re right. I don’t know what else to tell you. But you can do it in video games too, so go out and try it.

Bonus embarrassing/funny fact: I once thought Houston referred to a person when I was a kid. That’s why I included it in this post. Also, I thought it just sounded different and cool to give a person that name.

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Cruel Achievements Ruin Everyone’s Day

text that says insulting achievement unlockedI had so many tedious chores to do yesterday. As I glanced over my to-do list, I felt an itch. This wasn’t lice in my hair or something that begged for a scratch. It was an itch to finish the game I started the other day.

“Better play now,” I thought. “The dirty dishes can wait. Besides, if I didn’t do something now,” I reasoned, “the itch would only get worse.”

So I sat down and continued what seemed like a regular play session. I set out to find all the hidden fruit in the game and unlock an achievement for this feat. After I grabbed the last set of grapes, the achievement popped up. I felt a surge of excitement, accomplishment and adrenaline mix into a cocktail of euphoria. But then I saw something strange. It brought me down from this natural high.

You have unlocked “Grapes of Wrath – 0 Exp.”

I thought to myself, “Well, that was a waste of time.”

The summary confirmed this, “Whoop-Dee-do! You collected all the hidden fruit in the game. Why don’t you go make a fruit salad with all of it?”

I decided to keep playing and forget the thing had ever happened. And, sure enough, the game became fun again. Everything was fine.

After a while, I paused the game and made myself a quick sandwich. It had meatballs – which had marinated in marinara – and gooey cheese. I played the game with one hand and managed to eat half of the sandwich with the other. That worked for about five minutes. Then another achievement popped up.

“Ha,” I thought, “I deserve an achievement for beating half of this game.”

Boy was I ever wrong.

“You’re a disgusting pig” unlocked. The summary read “Hey lazy boy! Put down the sandwich, get off the couch and get outside!”

I shrugged it off. After all, I was relaxing after a long day and words don’t hurt my feelings.

Yet, in truth, the achievement had bothered me. I lost focus and watched in horror as zombies slaughtered my character a dozen times. On top of that, my character fell off a couple of cliffs because I couldn’t think straight.

Then another achievement appeared on the screen.

“You have unlocked Epic Fail – You’ve died 1000 times. So put down the controller, hang your head in shame, and walk away already.”

That was the last straw. I was going to beat this game and prove it wrong. It would soon find out about my skill.

I charged the through the swarm of zombies and survived. I scaled the treacherous precipices on the cliff that had tested my patience. And I still had time to make a fruit salad in the game. “Ha I proclaimed to myself. That was easy.”

Then something popped on the screen. “You have unlocked Wasted. You have wasted 10,000 hours on this game. You’re pathetic. How can you stand yourself?”

“Why you little…,” I started to say.

There was no time to argue. The game could insult me all it wanted and make stuff up. It was crazy. So I trudged toward the finish line and made it across in record time. The game was over!

As the credits rolled, I dreaded seeing another achievement. Sure enough, it appeared just as I hoped to escape the game’s insults.

“You are terrible at video games. Seriously. Just give up already. Don’t you have something better you could be doing with your time? Oh wait, no you don’t”

“That’s it! I’ve had just about enough of this,” I said. I lunged toward the TV determined to destroy the console forever.

Before I couldn’t finish my foul deed, I felt sweat drench my forehead. My clothes were covered in sweat too. I opened my bloodshot eyes wide and found myself sitting upright in bed at 2 AM.

I surveyed the room and took it all in. The apartment was quiet, except for the TV in the other room.

“Haha it was all a dream. There’s no game like that.” I laughed out loud.

My roommate furrowed his brow and steadied his gaze on me. “Are you alright? He had a puzzled look on his face with one eyebrow arched higher.” I ignored him for now, and he walked away.

“It was only a dream… only a dream. None of it really happened,” I said.

My eyes started to feel heavy as if a giant boulder weighed them down. I instinctively grabbed a half-eaten meatball sandwich on my end-table, took a bite and then let it fall on my bed. I was fast asleep again.

***

Meanwhile, somewhere far away in a deep, dark cave, a pasty man roars with laughter. His flabby jowls jiggle as if made of jello. He taps away with Flash Gordon-like speed at a keyboard. Then he stops, scans the screen, and shakes his head. “Oh man, the achievements in my new game are too cruel.”


What if achievements were cruel and picked on people? That was the prompt that inspired this silly post.

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