I Hate This Game

I Hate This Game
By Theodore Laurence

Sometimes I ask myself how I get in these situations. Then I tell myself it’s because I’m a spineless twit, that’s why.

Like the time my little brother, Kent, decided he needed a car for some movie he was making with the camcorder he got for Christmas. But since he couldn’t drive and didn’t have a car to begin with, he suckered me into driving my car full-speed down a road with a line of gasoline igniting behind me. It was supposed to look like the car was leaving flames. The problem is gasoline lights a lot faster than a car can get out of the way. And that’s how I ended up riding the bus my senior year of high school.

So when Kent came running into my room talking about this new “virtual reality” game he’d just played, let’s just say I wasn’t too keen to drop my “Pride and Prejudice” and run to the arcade.

“It’s a free demo, so you only get one play. But man, Jamie, you should see this thing,” he said. He flashed that lopsided grin he gets when he’s so excited he’s about to wet himself. He used to actually follow through when he was a kid. I would embarrass him all the time with that. At least until he got big enough to knock my lights out.

“No way,” I said. “You know I don’t do video games. Remember what happened when you tried to get me on Guild Wars?”

“Yeah, that still cracks me up. I didn’t know a griffin could kill a person in so many different ways.”

“Like I said: Gaming isn’t my thing,” I said and buried my face in my book again.

Good, I told myself. You’ve made your case, now stick to your guns. He always tries to goad you into it. Don’t give in to the idiot brother.

“Yeah, you probably couldn’t handle it, anyway,” he said and turned like he was going to leave.

Excuse me?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said and snapped my book shut.

“No, no. Go back to your Mr. Ducky and Elizabeth Barret,” he said.

“Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet!”

“Whatever,” he muttered and waved his hand dismissively. “It’s a well-known fact that girls can’t keep up with guys in the gaming world, you know.” He was using the same patronizing tone our parents pulled. God, I hate that.

“Oh yeah? How far’d you get in that game?” He was so going down.

“I dunno, sis. It’s pretty tough. I only got past level 5 of 10,” he said. “No one’s managed to beat it yet. Or at least that’s what the creators claim.”

“How much you wanna bet I’ll get farther than you did?” I asked and grabbed my keys. I had a huge ring with cheap, plastic key chains from every place I've ever been. Kent always called it my ghetto passport.

“Fifty bucks,” he said with a smug grin.

“You don’t have fifty bucks,” I said. Saving never was his strong point.

“I’ve got enough for lunch at Pasta Palace,” he said.

“Fine. If I get farther than you, you buy,” I said and walked out the door.

“Shotgun!” Kent yelled and sprinted out behind me. As he passed, I whipped my key chain around and smacked him on the back of the head. He yelped and started whining all the way to the mall, but it was worth it.

Twenty minutes later, we were in the mall arcade. It wasn’t hard to find the new game. A whole wall was covered in video screens with technicians monitoring panels. There was something like a standard dungeon scene displayed on the screens. In the middle of the panels, there was a metal chair. A boy was sitting in it with electrodes like the ones from those hospital shows covering his forehead. Inside the dungeon on the screen, a person just like the boy was walking across the room.

The boy on the screen lifted his hand and held out something that looked like a wand. There was a flash and he was holding a giant skillet. He stared at it in disbelief before a giant, scaly hand reached over and dragged him off the screen. There was a scream and then a machine sitting next to him powered up. Two seconds later, he was tearing off the electrodes and gasping for air. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so freaked out.

“Kent, what the heck was that?” I asked. I couldn’t take my eyes off the replay on the screen.

“Dude, that transformation sucked!” Kent laughed. He was laughing so hard he was almost doubled over. “A skillet? How the heck can you kill a monster with a skillet?”

A skinny man with dark, limp, oily hair came over from the main panel. He had a strange smile, like he was about to break into a cheesy mad scientist cackle any second. He nodded toward Kent in a familiar way.

“Come back to see some more, Kent?” he asked. His voice was deeper than I expected.

“Nah, Fred,” Kent said. “My sister here made a bet that she can get farther than me. Got time to plug her in?”

“Our last demo just ended, but I guess one more wouldn’t hurt,” he said and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He kept his eyes on me and slowly turned his head. Fred made me think more and more of a B movie villain.

“So how does this thing work?” I asked and turned my attention to the panels and screens. “I don’t see any visors or controls.”

“That’s because there are none,” Fred said. He walked to the chair and picked up one of the electrodes. “We attach these to specific points on your head. That allows us to project the game into your psyche. The rest all takes place in your mind. That means your options are only limited to what you can think up.”

“So I play this in my brain? How the heck did you get that to work?”

“Who cares?” Kent yelled before Fred could answer. “You’re asking the wrong questions. You haven’t even asked what makes this game so awesome yet!”

“Only because I know you’re going to tell me,” I shot back. Dimwit.

“The best part is the weapon,” he said. He was leaning in and whispering like it was some great secret.

“What, that stick thing?”

“A wand, actually,” Fred said. He was punching some buttons on the machine next to the chair. The machine made a whirring sound and the words “Extraction Protocol Check” flashed on the screen. “We call it the Chameleon Wand. It has the ability to transform into any object. The transformations are random, but they are something that can always be used in that level.”

“And what about that giant hand I saw?” I asked. The screen was flashing a bunch of numbers and charts.

“The game is a standard dungeon scenario,” he answered and touched the panel, clearing the screen. “Each room counts as a level with ten levels total. To clear the level, you have to defeat the guardian. Each guardian is a little different, requiring a different weapon to defeat it. The Chameleon Wand will transform into the tools you need.”

“So that guy could have beaten the giant lizard thing with a skillet if he’d wanted to?” Kent asked and chuckled to himself.

“Of course,” Fred said. He pressed another button and a map of 10 rooms snaked onto the screen. “The monster could have choked on it, as well as the typical barbaric cudgel method….”

“But if you choke the monster with it, how would you get it back?” I asked. “Do you have go dig it out or something?”

“Just use the ‘Reset’ button,” Kent said. There was that idiotic grin again. “That calls it back. I had to use that after my toxic licorice got chomped by that lion thing….”

“Toxic licorice?” I was starting to have second thoughts about this. Note to self: When having second thoughts, forget pride and get out.

“Take a seat whenever you’re ready,” Fred said and motioned toward the chair.

And like the spineless twit I am, I sat down.

It took about five minutes to put all the stickers on the right places and do all the test checks. Every time the machine next to me buzzed, a part of my scalp went numb.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” Fred said. He put his hand on a glowing button at the top of the main panel.

“Just so you know, if this fries my hair, I’m killing you both,” I said.

“That would be sweet!” Kent laughed. “We could wrap a hankie around your head and pass you off as a cancer patient!”

“Thanks.” He was so dead. “Just get this thing started.”

“This may tingle,” Fred said and pressed the button.

You know how at the doctor or dentist’s office they say something might “tickle” a bit? But tickle is never the right word, because it always feels like you’re being stabbed. “Tingle” definitely was NOT the right word.

Imagine someone lighting your hair on fire and then, just for giggles, dunking it into a bucket of dry ice. If that’s a “tingle,” my brother’s real name is Sean Connery.

It took me a moment to recover from the “tingle” (Who says that anymore, anyways?), but I finally looked around and found myself in a square, stone room.

“Can you hear me?”

The voice made me jump. It sounded like it was coming from inside my head.

“Who was that?” I asked out loud. I looked around the room and then felt like an idiot. Who else could it be….

“It’s Fred,” he answered. “I’m going to give you a quick tutorial on how to use the Chameleon Wand. How’s the armor feel?”

“Armor?” I asked and looked down. I was wearing a red body suit with plating sewn in. “It’s comfy… I guess. How effective is this stuff?”

“It’s stronger than it looks,” Fred said. The talking inside my head was starting to freak me out. “Check your belt. The Wand should be on your right hip.”

“But I’m left handed,” I said and looked at my belt. The wand had looked like a cheesy plastic toy when I saw it on the screen, but now it looked like a finely carved stick of ivory. I pulled it out a little clumsily with my right hand and moved it to my left. “What’s the button on my right wrist do?”

“That’s the recall button. Sometimes the wand will transform into something that needs to be thrown. In that case, you can press the button and bring it back to you. Kind of like a boomerang without the bent stick.”

“Great. Do I get any rocket boots or anything?” I asked. “I kind of like being able to dodge around instead of going head-to-head.”

“Don’t be such a wuss!” another voice said.

“KENT? What are you doing in my head?” So not cool.

“Fred gave me a spare headset,” Kent answered.

Great.

“Just keep your mouth shut,” I said. “If you break my concentration and get me killed, the bet’s off.”

“Are you ready for your first monster?” Fred asked. A black iron door materialized on the other side of the room. “Just remember, you only get three transformations per room.”

“Wait, you didn’t tell me how to make the Wand change!” I yelled as the door started to swing outward. Something was growling on the other side and a smell like meat right before it goes bad made me feel sick to my stomach.

“Press the button on the base,” Fred said. “This one should be pretty easy. Just remember to be creative with your weapons.”

The door swung farther open and a hairy, muscular arm shoved its way through the opening. That threw the door off its hinges and onto the floor at my feet. The monster looked like a mastiff on steroids. A very mangy, smelly, ugly mastiff on rot-your-skin-off steroids. It barred its fangs at me and snarled. The smell of its breath was so strong I almost dropped the Wand and lost it right there.

“Dude! That looks like our neighbor’s dog!” Kent yelled. I’m never going to look at that dog the same way again.

Thank God for annoying little brothers. No way I was going to let that thing freak me out now. I clutched the Wand and pressed the button on the base. There was a flash and I was holding some kind of handgun. It was bulkier than any gun I’d ever seen, but it was a gun, and that’s dang better than a skillet.

“Alright, big boy,” I said and held the gun up in both hands. “Let’s go.”

The monster crouched down and then lunged for my throat. I jumped back and to the side, twisted my torso and aimed the gun.

“Fear the wrath of my… walnut… gun….” I watched as several large walnuts bounced off the monster’s chest. What the heck? I looked down at the gun and then back at the monster. It looked down at the nuts, then back at me and snarled. NEVER pelt a hungry dog monster with walnuts.

“Walnuts? Dude, you are so screwed,” Kent laughed.

“Shut up, monkey fart!” I took another step back and pointed the gun at the monster again. “Fred, are you sure there’s a way to beat this thing with a walnut gun?”

“The Wand always turns into something you can use,” he answered. “Try looking for possible weak points. The underbelly or face might be some good places to start.”

Fantastic.

I noticed that the monster had moved around to my right. I turned to face it right as it sprang for my throat again. I guess instinct kicked in, because instead of falling into the fetal position, I tucked into a ball and rolled under the monster. We ended up on opposite sides of the dungeon. I was still crouched and turning when it howled and jumped for me again.

This time I didn’t have time to roll away. I fired the walnut gun into its open mouth as its front paws hit me in the shoulders. I hit the ground hard with globs of purple spit falling onto my face and hair. I kept my eyes shut and waited for the bite, but it never came.

Instead, the monster was gagging and hacking on top of me. This went on for a minute until it finally collapsed on my chest.

It took me a while to work my hands free. I wiped the spit off my face and opened the monster’s mouth. A walnut was lodged in the back of its throat.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me….” I said as I squirmed my way out from under it.

“Dude, did that thing choke on your walnut?” Kent laughed. “That’s so much better than the toxic licorice move!”

“Shut up, Kent!” I yelled. I was trying to wipe the spit out of my hair, but all I did was streak it and give myself purple highlights. “Fred, what was up with that tuck-and-roll thing I did?”

“I told you before, the game is taking place in your mind,” he answered. “You can do anything you can think of.”

“So I could have thrown the door at it if I’d wanted to?” I asked and nudged the heavy block of iron with my toe.

“If you convinced yourself that you could,” he said. “For you, it might be more effective if you think of moves to dodge and avoid the monsters.”

“Gottcha. So, I guess it’s on to the next room then.” The first level wasn’t too hard. How bad could this be?

Thirty minutes, four levels, a spray can, a giant fountain pen, a rubber duck and a poisoned pot of peanut butter later, I was at level six and feeling good. A dinner at Pasta Palace was almost in the bag and I was starting to get the hang of this game.

A giant bat monster with eyes like a cat and talons like an eagle was eying me from across the room this time. I could hardly see it because the room was so dark.

I pressed the button and the wand flashed. The bright light hurt my eyes and the bat creature shrieked and hid its face behind its wing, then turned a fierce glare my way.

And there I stood, holding a microphone.

“Uh... Hello? Is this thing on?” My voice echoed around the chamber and the monster shrieked and clutched its ears.

“Dude, sis!You look like one of those 80s rock chicks!” Kent yelled. “You should totally bust out with some crappy Benatar hit and make that thing's ears bleed!”

“I happen to like Pat Benatar, thank you very much!” I said into the microphone. The monster shrieked again. “But I think this calls for some Heart.”

“Not Heart! Anything but that!” Kent pleaded. “You know you can't hit those high notes!”

“Exactly,” I said and launched strait into “Alone.” The monster never had a chance. It just flopped around on the floor screeching until the final high note. I didn't think my singing was that bad, but apparently it's bad enough to give a bat monster convulsions until it dies.

And that final high note was when my brother did something terminally stupid.

In fact, I never finished the note because there was suddenly this odd buzzing in my head and everything went silent. I called out to Kent and Fred, but no one answered.

I don't know how long I stood there, but it was long enough to get me pretty freaked out. Then there was another buzzing sensation and a weird pop toward the front of my brain.

“Are you feeling alright?” Fred's voice asked.

“What just happened?”

“We had a slight... malfunction,” Fred said. He hesitated for a moment. “Your brother had a rather large reaction to that last note and stepped on the power cord to the extraction machine, accidentally pulling the plug.”

“So what does that mean?” I asked. I could feel my palms starting to sweat and my mouth was suddenly dry.

“I'm afraid we won't be able to properly extract you if you are killed in this game,” Fred said. “You're going to have to play to the end of level 10 in order to be extracted safely. Otherwise, we could damage your psyche.”

“So wait. What happens if I die in this game?”

“I'm not sure. It could be anything from mild damage to becoming brain dead,” Fred said. He sounded very nervous now. “This isn't a possibility that we took into account when creating the game.”

“Are you kidding me?” I screamed. “My idiot brother steps on a power cord and now I could become a vegetable for the rest of my life? What is wrong with you people? Don't you have any safety measures on this thing?”

“Hey, calm down, sis,” Kent said. He was obviously nervous. “We'll help you get through OK. Right, Fred?”

“I'll make a few modifications to the difficulty and see if we can't tilt things in your favor. Don't worry. I'll guide you through the rest so there's no more problems.”

“You better,” I said. “If I die in here, I'm haunting you both forever. And if I make it out alive, Kent's going to owe me a lifetime of free lunches.”

By now the microphone had changed back into the wand, so I walked into the next room. I was angry, but the idea of getting killed inside a video game and spending the rest of my life drooling and using a bedpan made me more cautious that before.

The next monster was already in the room, and the smell nearly floored me. Sitting by the door on the opposite side of the room was a giant blob that seemed to be burning the floor.

An acid blob monster. Perfect.

I pressed the switch and the wand flashed again. I almost dropped it because of the sudden weight. I was holding what looked like a bazooka. But instead of explosive shells, it was loaded with some kind of tablet.

The monster began to ooze forward, leaving a burning, smelly trail of acidic goo as it approached.

“This is one of our easiest monsters,” Fred said. “Use the bazooka and aim straight for the center of the blob. Be careful. The weapon has a big kick.”

I aimed the bazooka like he told me to and fired. The recoil threw me backwards several feet and the shot went high, bounced off the wall and landed in the ooze trail. There was a sizzling sound and fumes rose up from the spot. The blob stopped, gurgled angrily and moved forward again.

“Hurry,” Fred said. “You've got to brace yourself more and fire directly into the center or it won't be killed.”

“YOU try firing this thing!” I yelled and took aim again. “It's like trying to hold up a cannon!”

“Try firing from one knee, like the dudes in the war movies,” Kent said.

What the heck.

I went down on one knee and braced myself as best I could. The blob was only about 10 feet away now, so it would be hard to miss. I pulled the trigger and the tablet flew straight into the blob. Bits of acid splashed out from the impact and I had to spring back.

Instantly, the blob was alive with bubbles and fizzling noises. Fumes were everywhere. I had to drop to the floor to be able to breathe. The blob kept fizzing and bubbling until it was reduced to a room full of fumes and a large puddle in the middle of the floor.

“Is this an antacid bazooka?” I asked and looked at the last tablet in the gun.

“Essentially, yes,” Fred said. “It fires a basic tablet to counter the acid monster. There is a chemical reaction and the monster is neutralized.”

“So I just shot this thing with a giant Tums? Where do you people come up with this stuff?”

“We're video game developers. It's our job to think up wacky stuff to keep you entertained. Are you ready for the next room?”

“I don't really have a choice, do I?” I asked and walked through the door to Room 8.

“This monster should be a little harder than the blob, but it's still one of the easiest in the game,” Fred said. “Just remember not to let your guard down.”

The door was swinging open and I could hear the monster scratching on the other side.

“Let my guard down?” I laughed and took a defensive stance. “Everything I've faced so far was ugly enough to put Hellen Keller on edge!”

The door swung open and a red creature jumped out into the center of the room. It leaped around playfully in a small circle and then turned toward me.

It took everything I had not to run up and try to cuddle it. I was staring face-to-face with the biggest, cutest fox I had ever seen. But I was also stuck in a video game where every monster is trying to kill me.

I pressed the wand, and the fox leaped backwards when it flashed. Then he dropped his front end, like dogs do when they want to play, and his tail started twitching like crazy. At first I thought he was going to charge and play with me like cats or orcas play with their food, but he kept staring at my left hand.

The wand had changed into a tennis ball. At least it looked like one. It was actually the size of a softball. Far too big to choke a fox that was about the size of a Labrador. I guess a repeat of the walnut-gun episode was out.

I held up the ball and the fox started squirming, like he was getting impatient.

“Fred, does this thing play fetch?” I asked.

“Yes, but don't get too involved,” he said. “It also likes to get a little too close and defensive when you take the ball back.”

I tossed the ball to the side and the fox caught it before it hit the wall. Then it started to prance off to the corner with my only weapon.

Thank God for the recall button.

Suddenly the fox's mouth was empty and I had the ball again. It blinked, looked around and saw the ball in my hands again. This time it didn't try to play. It let out a low growl and bared its fangs at me.

I threw the ball into a corner and this time the fox dove for it as fast as it could. The ball bounced off the corner and back to me, but the fox couldn't turn in time on the slick stone floors of the dungeon. It slammed head-first into the corner and stumbled backwards.

“Are you serious? This is how I beat the poor guy?”

“Hey, sis. You didn't feel bad when you poisoned that squirrel thing with your toxic peanut butter!”Kent said.

“Yeah, but that was a squirrel that looked and smelled like it had been electrocuted a couple too many times,” I said. “And it didn't help that it was the size of a Saint Bernard. But this is just sad. Aren't foxes supposed to be smart?”

“In nature, yes,” Fred said. “In video games, anything can happen.”

By this time the fox had shaken its head and turned back to me. I guess I was still thinking how cute and sad it was instead of how much it wanted to eat me to get the ball, because I didn't throw fast enough. The fox took a flying leap toward me and its teeth scraped my arm as I dove out of the way.

As soon as I landed, I threw the ball to the opposite end of the dungeon. The fox took off at full speed again and, once again, it was so close to catching the ball that it forgot to look ahead. The ball bounced up, the fox turned its head to a funny angle to try and grab it, there was a sickening crunch as the fox hit the wall and then silence.

“I think this is the most depressing moment of my life,” I said while gingerly holding the slobber-covered ball.

“I told you not to let your guard down,” Fred said. “Take a look at your arm and make sure it's not bleeding too badly. I'll try and program in a health pack for you.”

“Thanks,” I said. There was a little blood running down my arm, but the wound wasn't deep. It did sting pretty badly, though. “I think I'm OK for now. I'll let you know if I need one in the next room.”

The next room looked the same as any other, except that the monster was already inside and waiting for me. It looked like a warthog, only it was the size of a bison. And it had a rather distinct smell. Almost like burned popcorn mixed with rotten flesh. The brown liquid oozing down from its nose, mouth and ears didn't help its image, either.

“Is anyone else thinking about how nasty that pig is?” Kent asked. “I hope we're not having pork for dinner.”

“Shut UP, Kent!” I yelled. “If I die because you broke my concentration, Mom is going to fry you up for breakfast.”

“As long as she keeps me in a separate pan from the bacon. I don't think I'll ever eat pig flesh again!”

I sighed and pressed the button. The creature was huge, but it was acting pretty stupid and had only just noticed I was there. And this time, I was armed with a cattle prod!

“Finally, something useful!” I yelled and stepped toward the monster. It looked at me, lowered its tusks and charged.

I let it get as close as possible, then jumped to the side and jabbed it with the cattle prod. I expected a little jolt and an angry monster turning to face me again. Instead, I got electrocuted pig with a lingering aroma of twice-burned popcorn and overcooked pork.

“Well, that was easy,” I said after choking on the noxious fumes coming from the body. “You know, if it weren't for the 'trying not to die' problem, I'd be kind of disappointed in this game, Fred.”

“Please keep in mind that I've turned the difficulty level all the way down to zero for you,” he said. “I'd rather not have a girl become a vegetable before we even launch this on the open market.”

“You're going to sell this on the open market?” I yelled. “Are you insane?”

“After we fix this obvious glitch, of course.”

“And what happens once you find another glitch that traps someone inside this little virtual world you've created?”

“While I appreciate your concern for others, I think it would be best to concentrate on finding a way to extract you before moving on to any other possibilities.”

“Whatever. Let's just get this last room over with.”

The final dungeon was bigger than the others, and the door reached all the way to the ceiling. I pressed the button and the wand shifted into the last thing I wanted to see.

A huge frying pan.

“Something's wrong,” Fred said. “That's the initial weapon for our most advanced monster. You should be fighting something easier.”

“Um.... Is your advanced monster a giant lizardman?”

“Yes.”

“Then I would definitely say there's something wrong,” I said and brandished the frying pan. “Because I'm looking at him right now.”

The final guardian's head almost touched the roof and his hands were covered in rough scales with long claws, just like I had seen earlier when that other kid was playing. It let out a shriek as it reached toward me, and it's long tail smashed into the door, knocking it off it's hinges.

I waited for the hand to get closer and then slammed my frying pan down on one of the long fingers. A claw snapped off and the lizardman screamed.

“Dude, did you guys rip-off the Godzilla scream?” Kent said. “That is so lame!”

“Smash the big toe on the left foot,” Fred said. I could hear the tension in his voice. “That will make the monster lose its balance. Then make the wand transform again.”

“Do you know how hard it is to get under an angry lizardman's belly?” I screamed as the monster took a swipe at me with its claws.

“Just do it!” Kent yelled. “If you die in there, I'm not changing your bedpans for the rest of your life!”

I would have yelled something back, but the monster was backing me into a corner. Every time I tried to get to its left foot, it slapped downwards with one of its huge hands, forcing me to leap out of the way and try again.

Finally, I waited for the downward blow to come, and instead of jumping back, I rolled to my right. The monster lifted its right foot to stomp me, but I had already reached its left foot. I brought the pan down on its toe with all my strength. The monster screamed again and fell backwards.

Without wasting any time, I pressed the button again. After the flash, I was once again holding the walnut gun.

“Hm...” Fred said. “That shouldn't have happened.”

“WHAT?” I couldn't believe it. Here I was, holding a useless weapon while a giant monster was getting back up to try and eat me. “Then what am I supposed to to now?”

“There's nothing for it,” Fred replied. “You'll have to try the transformation again. I'm sending a medpac your way as well.”

A small package materialized in front of me as I pressed the button on the wand again. Now I was holding the jar of toxic peanut butter.

“This is not good,” Fred said. “There's not nearly enough poison in that jar to kill this monster.”

Great.

“What will it do?”

“If you can get the monster to eat it, the poison may slow him down enough for you to kill him some other way. Otherwise, there's not much I can do. You're only allowed three transformations per round. I can't override that command.”

I unscrewed the top of the jar and grabbed a piece of a hinge from the damaged door. I knew from last time that I couldn't touch the substance without getting some serious burns on my hands. Thank God for medpacs!

As I dipped the hinge into the jar, I felt a giant hand close around my legs.

Not good.

But just when I was going to give up and resign myself to a life of looking at pretty pictures and wearing diapers forever, I remembered Star Wars. If you want to disable a rancor, sometimes you have to let it try to eat you.

I waited until the monster was about to bite my head off, then smeared a huge swatch of the peanut butter on its tongue. The bite never came. The monster threw its head back and howled, dropping me in the process. Now I was free, but there were no more weapons in the wand. It was just me and a drugged, angry lizardman.

I took a step backwards and my foot touched the door. The door! The heavy, solid iron, studded and spiked dungeon door!

“Fred!” I yelled as the monster thrashed around in the corner clawing at its mouth. “You said I could lift this door, right?”

“Only if you convinced yourself that you can....” he said. I could hear the skepticism in his voice.

“It's not like I have a choice now, does it?” I said. I reached down and grabbed the top of the door, but it wouldn't budge. The monster was beginning to crawl out of the corner, leaving a trail of nasty green ooze behind it.

“I can do this,” I muttered and grabbed the door again. It shifted, but it still felt like I would never be able to lift it. “Fred, a little help?”

“I don't know what to tell you,” he said. “Unless....”

“Unless what?” The monster was shaking its head and trying to push itself up off the floor now. “You might want to hurry with that suggestion!”

“Do you still have the wand?” Fred asked.

“What good would that do? I already used all three options!”

“Listen, you've done well enough to earn a bonus transformation,” he said. “There's no guarantee it'll be anything useful, but it's our last shot.”

“What do you mean there's no guarantee? You created the stupid game! Can't you hack it and give me a sword or something?”

“Oh, come on, sis! Where's your sense of adventure?” Kent yelled. “Don't be such a pansy!”

“Kent, if I get out of here, the first thing I'm doing is kicking you in the nuts!” I yelled. “OK. Here it goes.”

There was a flash and I felt a heavy weight in my hands. I looked down in astonishment. I was holding a larger version of my own key chain. A larger version with spikes covering the different segments.

I looked up and the monster was standing on his feet again. He still seemed a bit unstable, but his eyes were slowly focusing on me and I heard a low growl. I raised my new weapon and turned to face him.

“Oh, it's on now,” I said and a small smile crept across my face. “This is something I can use!”

The monster reached for me once again, but this time I was ready. I stepped back and crushed its hand down to the ground with my weapon. The monster shrieked in pain and anger, then swatted at me with its other hand. I brought the weapon around again and slammed it upward, deflecting the hand over my head and leaving a wound on the creature's palm.

“Whoa! That is the scariest thing I've ever seen, sis!” Kent yelled. “Where did all that come from?”

“From putting up with you for the past 15 years!” I brought the weapon around from the side and slammed it into the monster's right leg. It swayed and staggered backwards a step or two. Then it came forward again.

“Hit it harder on the other leg,” Fred said. “If you can get it to fall over, you'll beat it!”

“Would you two stop yelling?” I said and winced. “I'm getting a headache!”

The lizardman took another swipe at me, so I ducked under its arm and slammed the key chain weapon into its other leg hard enough to knock it off its feet. It landed on its back with an earth-shaking impact and its head slammed into the floor.

“Quick! While it's disoriented!” Fred yelled again.

“What did I tell you about that?” I yelled back and ran toward the monster's head.

I swung the key chain around above my head twice to gain enough speed for the final blow. Right as I brought it down, the lizardman looked up at me and let out an angry hiss. But he never got any farther. Then I was standing there with a huge, spikey, key chain covered in green blood.

A fanfare started up out of nowhere and suddenly the wand was gone from my hand. Instead there was a glowing alphabet on the wall in front of me and a cheesy voice said, “Congratulations to thee, oh Champion! Now, inscribe your initials on the wall for all to see your accomplishments this day!”

“Fred, can I go home now?” I asked. I didn't care about the stupid high score. I just wanted to live real life again.

“Just put your initials in and the game should do the rest on its own.” he said. “Just do exactly what it says.”

“Right.” I pressed the tiles with my initials and watched them become emblazoned across the wall in gold leaf letters.

“Now, enter the magic portal and return to the land from whence ye came,” the voice said. A blue, glowing circle opened on the floor in front of me. I stepped in, there was another “tingle,” and I was staring into the slightly mad scientist looking face of Fred.

I was so happy, I almost kissed him.

Instead I turned to Kent and slugged him in the arm.

“OW!” he whined “What was that for?”

“For almost getting me killed!” I yelled. The arcade was empty by now and the mall was getting ready to close. “How long was I in there?”

“Approximately 10 hours and 20 minutes,” Kent said, checking his watch. “This could be an excellent opportunity to test the effects of prolonged exposure to the game system. Would you mind going in for a CAT scan?”

“You mean to tell me I almost died or became a vegetable thanks to that stupid game and you want me to go in and help you do more?” I asked in disbelief. “You're insane! You're both lucky I'm not trying to strangle you right now!”

“Oh, forget that, sis!” Kent said. “We've got to leave right now or we won't be back before mom gets off her shift at the hospital. And if she finds out we've been gone all this time playing video games, she's going to be pissed!”

“Before you go, why don't you take my card?” Kent said, holding one out to me. “Let me know if you're interested in taking a look at any new aspects of the game.”

“Hey, I've got a better idea,” I said. I pulled out my key chain and quickly smacked both Kent and Fred on the back of the head, then walked out the door.

I hate that game.