"VIDEOGAMER'S BELOVED" is today's micro-fiction which, like a black hand reaching out from a flat video game screen, will grab you, pull you in and make you dance with the blue, green and yellow pixelated characters inside. Inspiration comes today from the very talented Matt Clark.
Oh and I just wanted to squeeze in a little mention of Chris Elliot's new book Yes, the Cabin Boy has a novel out there. That fact alone should be enough to make it a hilarious read.
But for now drag your computer - however big and clunky it may be - back into your bed and enjoy the following Sunday morning read...
A cat-scan revealed that circuitry had woven its way around his cerebellum. No one at the hospital had ever seen anything like it and the senior staff fought over who would do the interviews to explain as much to the general public. Several of the doctors spent the morning scribbling down notes detailing how science could explain away such seemingly miraculous events. The conclusion that they wanted to dispel was that the microchips in Brian Fanlick's brains were in any way similar to the hardware within the video game he had played for three days straight in a comatose state. That was a definite impossiblity.
Brian regained a kind of hazy consciousness encircled by a ceremonious looking group consisting of his fiancee, her sister, his brother, a priest and three kids he'd never seen before in his life.
"Hey mister can I have your autograph ?" the one with the thickest glasses smiled.
"Now what did we say ?" Brian's fiancee put her hand up and the boy lowered his head.
"These boys were the ones cheering you on as you wasted your life away at that video game," she explained very carefully to Brian not knowing how much damage had been done to his brain. "I wanted you to see what you left me at the altar for. A fan club of little snot-nosed nerds but I will forgive you marry me right now."
The three boys, oblivious to the insult, watched Brian carefully, hoping to pick up some tips on how to high-score Galactablaster. Perhaps it was in his hands or the way he moved his eyes. He was their God.
"What were you thinking," Brian's brother asked. Brian's fiancee knitted her brow in consternation over this question which would further delay their "I-do's". Brian's fans waited eagerly for him to open his mouth with the truth.
His mouth opened but nothing came out and it was only after one of the kids rammed a quarter up his left nostril that he uttered those lovely words: "I do."
And the world was set to rights once again.
Oh and I just wanted to squeeze in a little mention of Chris Elliot's new book Yes, the Cabin Boy has a novel out there. That fact alone should be enough to make it a hilarious read.
But for now drag your computer - however big and clunky it may be - back into your bed and enjoy the following Sunday morning read...
VIDEOGAMER'S BELOVED
A cat-scan revealed that circuitry had woven its way around his cerebellum. No one at the hospital had ever seen anything like it and the senior staff fought over who would do the interviews to explain as much to the general public. Several of the doctors spent the morning scribbling down notes detailing how science could explain away such seemingly miraculous events. The conclusion that they wanted to dispel was that the microchips in Brian Fanlick's brains were in any way similar to the hardware within the video game he had played for three days straight in a comatose state. That was a definite impossiblity.
Brian regained a kind of hazy consciousness encircled by a ceremonious looking group consisting of his fiancee, her sister, his brother, a priest and three kids he'd never seen before in his life.
"Hey mister can I have your autograph ?" the one with the thickest glasses smiled.
"Now what did we say ?" Brian's fiancee put her hand up and the boy lowered his head.
"These boys were the ones cheering you on as you wasted your life away at that video game," she explained very carefully to Brian not knowing how much damage had been done to his brain. "I wanted you to see what you left me at the altar for. A fan club of little snot-nosed nerds but I will forgive you marry me right now."
The three boys, oblivious to the insult, watched Brian carefully, hoping to pick up some tips on how to high-score Galactablaster. Perhaps it was in his hands or the way he moved his eyes. He was their God.
"What were you thinking," Brian's brother asked. Brian's fiancee knitted her brow in consternation over this question which would further delay their "I-do's". Brian's fans waited eagerly for him to open his mouth with the truth.
His mouth opened but nothing came out and it was only after one of the kids rammed a quarter up his left nostril that he uttered those lovely words: "I do."
And the world was set to rights once again.
posted by kevin spenst at 12:19 PM
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