Once in a great while, something comes along that changes humanity. Something that boils the blood, stirs the senses, makes you cringe, and occasionally gives you diarrhea. Well, my tale is nothing like any of those moments, but it’s pretty darn close. This story takes us through two days in February (ooh, bad Goo Goo Dolls reference…disregard!), during which, I struggled, strained, and other such ireful verbs, trying to decide between the love of my life and the game of my dreams… and vice versa.
Well, let me take you back to twenty-four hours before Valentines Day, of the year two thousand and five, when I trekked (yes, trekked) to the local flea market with my reluctant grandmother to see what I could see, hear what I could hear, smell what I could smell, and occasionally, taste what I could taste (though some of those tastes put the status of my physical being in great jeopardy). Fighting off her cries of “my feet hurt!” and “have you seen my teeth?”, I scoured around for an item worth buying. I did my best to pry myself loose from her grip (I think she Polidented herself to my shirt), and managed to break away. Whilst browsing through yonder video games, I spied a truly great Genesis title that I decided right then and there was something that had to be mine! If I didn’t get it…well, then someone would wind up being beaten with a large, blunt, and ludicrously painful object. Sorry grandma.
The name of the game, you ask? Well, only the most hardcore and audacious game ever manufactured in the 16-bit era: Ranger-X. How I know this, I really can’t say. I think it probably had something to do with the fact that money burns a hole in my pocket, and I just happened to have a five-dollar bill left over from last weeks laundry in there. Combined with the fact that this was the only game available…I just had to have it. But, it was the day before Valentines day, and knowing that my girlfriend was in a constant state of both gratitude and PMS, I considered getting her a gift, such as a watch, or jewelry. After all, it’s the perfect way of saying “shut up” without actually saying it.
That night, I pondered over my bowl of Chef Boyardee overstuffed beef ravioli (overstuffed…with knowledge). After consulting my dish of unusually pungent pasta and ignoring the peanut butter smeared on my wall, I made my decision… I decided that my girl should come first, as I did not want to develop social brain death (a fairly common disease among Genesis gamers that plagues the mind and causes the victim to produce an uncanny knowledge of electronics, programming, and hernias).
The next day, I confidently set out to buy her the greatest gift known to mankind (as far as broke boyfriends are concerned). Naturally, I started to strut (yes, strut) over to the jewelry store, when lo and behold; I met my dastardly arch nemesis – Chuck Norris. There he was, ready for battle, his wilting man-tits covered in more hair than Robin Williams. He was taunting me- laughing at my meager size and even smaller cash flow. This simply could not stand. Norris and I had often battled for complete copies of whatever Genesis games appeared for sale at the local thrift store- he’s a big 32X fan, did you know?- and this time he had simply gone too far.
Having virtually no time to react, I spied a jackhammer only five feet away. Sitting next to it was a small rock. Using my cunning stealth, I swiftly grabbed the rock, dropped it to distract him, and resorted to kicking him in the hoo-has. As he fell to the ground, wriggling in pain, I had the perfect idea… After playing my share of Ranger X with my girlfriend in my arms, I called upon our new servant – Ignatius. Yes, Ignatius was his new name, and he would serve us well, or his hoo-has would suffer the consequences.
In the end, I was happy, my girlfriend loved her new servant, and Chuck Norris was left with a severely damaged testicle (it especially hurts him on cold days). My girl and I both lived happily ever after.