Many titles are never written, nor ever given. They are known, and that is enough. -Intellectual Shaman
My brother-in-law had the title. It was summer vacation and I was off from work and my brother-in-law wasn’t doing anything. When there are no daily struggles, a battle must come from somewhere and the living room became a war zone. My brother-in-law flashed his controller like he was brandishing a weapon. “Care to challenge me for the title?”
“You’re on!” I said.
We turned on the PlayStation like it was death con 1. We chose our warriors and began to scroll through gun options, body armor, and grenades.
“You’re using a double barrel shotgun? No way you’ll beat me if I have a machine gun!” My brother-in-law said.
And the game was on. With the shotgun, I had to be deadly accurate. My brother-in-law started firing the 100-bullet clip across the game and through a house. He hit me on the other side. I ran towards him and popped him twice.
It jolted him in his leather chair. Part of the game was to destroy the other player’s confidence. If done correctly, Jon wouldn’t talk to me for a week. Then he’d get over it and want to play again. The reverse happened and I wouldn’t talk to him for a week.
My sister was worried that our relationship was bonded together with virtual violence. “But that’s how brothers love each other,” Jon said.
Sometimes our games would last deep into the evening. Neither of us wanted to concede defeat. If I was ahead, I couldn’t retire because Jon would say…
“You’re quitting because you know I’ll come back and beat your ass! Give me a chance to get even!”
And I’d give in. The best times were when I kept beating him and there was no possible way for him to come back from the loss. My friend Christopher came over one day while my brother-in-law and I were playing a bloodthirsty game.
“Pull up a chair!” Jon said.
“I should warn you; this game is ruthless and not very friendly.”
“That’s okay,” Christopher said. Pretty soon Jon and I were killing him.
“Stop leaching off Christopher!” I shouted.
“Speak for yourself!” Jon said and he killed him. Then Jon killed me. “Double the points!” He screamed.
We were virtual savages.
Christopher got mad. “I quit!”
Jon and I were too busy to notice. Christopher’s character was alive somewhere in the game and there was no one playing him. Jon got there first and put 20 bullets into him.
Then I raced to find Christopher’s character. BOOM. BOOM. I got him with the shotgun. “My point!”
I found Christopher again, but Jon grabbed his controller when I didn’t expect it and shot my character in the head. “Hey, that’s not fair! You can’t be 2 people.”
“Who said!” Jon snickered.
I’ve heard stories about Asian kids not eating for 3 days because they played video games. This may have happened to Jon and I if it wasn’t for my sister’s intervention. It was 9 in the morning when she woke up. “You guys are still playing?! What’s wrong with you! It’s been 16 hours!”
“Andy tried to end the game, but he knows I’m the REAL champion!” Jon said.
“You are not!” I laughed. And I snuck up behind him and blasted him in the head.”
“Hey, that’s not fair!” He shouted. “I was talking to your sister!”
“Well… you shouldn’t have gotten distracted. A champion remains focused.”
“That’s it! I quit!” Jon screamed. And he didn’t talk to me for 3 weeks. I practiced in secret and the next time we played, he quit forever.
A couple months later I told him… “You should be thanking me that I cured you from your serious addiction. Look at how much time you have available now.”
“What are the odds we become roommates when we get older?” He suggested.
“If that happens, we’ll kill each other!”