A bear of a man sits on the couch. An Xbox360 controller looking, for lack of a better word, like a toy in his massive paws.His face a look of pure concentration as he surgically taps on the game pad. On the television in front of him, a small character sporting a red cap and similar pullovers jumps around the screen, methodically clearing it of weird turtle-like creatures and floating coins.
'Come on, Tony, it's time to go.'
A lanky teen walks into the living room. His hair, a mop of dreadlocks, falls across his face, concealing bright, intelligent eyes.
'You know I don't want to do this, right Andrew? I told you, I hate it.'
'You...hate it? You do know..."
Andrew's voice trails off as he catches sight of the television screen.
'Mario? Really? You're still stuck on this level or what? Because I'm under the distinct impression that you rescued the Princess and her 25 other cousins last week.'
'I love this game, okay?'
Tony shifts, shoulders drooping. The sofa groans in protest.
Andrew, standing directly behind, cringes.
'You know, we should really change the sofa, I swear, it's going to collapse one day. And what's so great about Mario anyway? Or those old games like Final Fantasy 7 or whatever it's called?'
He makes the sign of the cross over his heart and looks up at the ceiling as he says that.
Better to be safe than piss off the Gods of the 4th wall.
Tony replies, oblivious to his actions.
'There's a reason why we love old games. We love it, not because it was visually beautiful. Not because it had the smoothest controls nor the greatest pixel to frame ratio. We loved it because it brought us back. To a time when nothing mattered. Bills and debts were worlds away and responsibilities and social relations had yet to whittle away at our soul.'
He shifts in his seat again, eyes downcast.
'Back when we were still young and innocent; these games invoke nostalgia. Good times, carefree days. After a day outside, we'd just run into the kitchen and ask our Mom's to pour us a glass of milk and prepare some cookies. Then we'd dunk them, not too long that it'd break away but just long enough so there was enough of that satisfying crunch mixed with a soft release of milk.'
'Ignorance is bliss? It really is. people can argue against it but, how could anyone know that what they didn't know was important if they didn't know about its very existence to begin with? No. We don't play these games expecting the best of experience. We play them in a vain attempt to recapture those blissful moments. Forever lost to time, yet always there at at the edges of our memories.'
'Maybe we play them hoping to forget the worries of the present. Maybe we play them thinking that whatever problems we face would be gone by the time we are done. Whatever the reason, there will always lie the draw of the classics.'
'Hindsight is mankind's greatest strength. There's no arguing that and I say it with bitter irony. The countless, 'if I had only known then what I know now's.'
Andrew stares at his back, a bewildered frown plasters his face. He looks around the room as if seeking confirmation from invisible observers. (Yes that would be you, beyond the 4th wall.)
'Okay, Tony...' he starts off slowly, as if unsure if any misspoken word would send Tony on a crazy diatribe again.
'You do know we're going for a...party. Right?'
'...'
The silence stretches on.
'...Oh.' comes Tony's reply.
'Why didn't you say so? I'm ready to leave.'
He stands up and both of them make their way to the door, Mario is forgotten on the TV screen.
The room is empty and Mario is still running.
Tony in leaving, had tossed his controller absent mindedly to the side and it had landed in a way that had one of its buttons held down.
On screen, Mario keeps jumping. The vocal cue that rings out every time he jumps echoes incessantly around the room.
'Huh HuHH. Huh HuhHH. Huh HuhH. Huh HuHH. Huh HuhHH. Huh HuhH. Huh HuHH. Huh HuhHH. Huh HuhH. Huh HuHH. Huh HuhHH. Huh HuhH. Huh HuHH. Huh HuhHH. Huh HuhH. Huh HuHH. Huh HuhHH. Huh HuhH. Huh HuHH. Huh HuhHH. Huh HuhH.'
