Collision Course [+ Additional Levels]

Level Sixteen - Head On

"I am not okay."

Moe stared at the machine before him. "I am so anything but okay right now..."

Q*bert. Q*bert. Q... freaking... bert.

He couldn't believe this. This was the very last game he had wanted to run into. And then, he did. Literally.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," he said to himself.

"Maybe you're here to... play it?"

He jumped and turned his head left to look at where the voice had come from. Ever since sound had come back, he'd been a little on edge. Well, because of that, and the peculiar blind chase throughout the building with no sound.

It was an average-looking guy, who was looking at him inquisitively. He wore a plaid, long sleeved buttoned-down shirt, opened to reveal a black tee shirt with the Metallica band logo on it. Jeans, sneakers, gel-styled hair. Nothing weird about him. He seemed to be just another gamer. Or maybe he actually was. Moe wasn't sure.

He turned away and pulled on the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Great, now he was paranoid. Of course he was actually a gamer. They were at an arcade. What else would the guy be doing there?

And, on the other side, he wasn't dressed entirely in the same color as his hair. So, hooray for that.

He nearly groaned aloud, disgusted with his own thoughts.

"Well?"

Moe looked up at him again. The other teenager was still standing there. Watching him expectantly.

"Are you going to play it?" the guy asked him.

Moe frowned at him in confusion. The other guy gestured to something with a nod of his head and a flap of his elbow―his hands were casually in his pants pockets. Moe looked at what it was he was talking about; it was the Q*bert arcade machine. His eyebrows arched as he looked from the guy to the game and back for confirmation, and was answered with a nod as if it were obvious.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, what else would you do?" he was told.

Moe looked at the video game for a couple seconds. Then at Plaid.

"Uh... nah. Nope. No, thanks." He immediately backed away, offering him some room. "You go on ahead and play, but as for me, I'm not... going anywhere near that thing," he finished while staring at the game.

Plaid's own eyebrows rose, and he looked from Moe to Q*bert, and then back at him again. "You were just standing right in front of it. Surely you were thinking about playing it."

"Huh?" Moe's brows arched and he looked back at the dude. "Oh, no way," he said while quickly shaking his head.

"What else would you be here for?" Then a look of understanding passed Plaid's face. "Were you sent here?"

Moe gave him a strange look, narrowing his eyes on him, trying to hide most of the sudden suspicion that just arose from that question. Plaid rolled his eyes, telling him, "For competition reasons. A double-dog dare maybe? No, triple? It was triple, I bet."

He let out a breath he hadn't realized that he'd been holding in. "Uh, no. Absolutely not," he said. Then his eyes landed on the Q*bert arcade machine, and realized―it wasn't on. All of the other games, even when idle, had something playing or flashing on the screen. The smooth angled surface of Q*bert's screen, however, had no power to it.

Plaid just chuckled at Moe's words, shaking his head. "No matter what brought you here..." He walked up to him, and set a hand on his shoulder, making him flinch. Moe stared at his face, and Plaid looked back at him. They were about the same height.