Bullet Points

8 Bit

"I'm so booooored."

Demo's whine echoed throughout the room like a cannonball, bouncing off the walls obnoxiously as he complained for the umpteenth time in the last half hour. Grunt rolled his eyes heavenward as the smallest of their offensive team wailed theatrically, his woe is me act clearly chafing on his last nerve; his silent warning went unheeded, drowned out by the sounds of teenage egocentricity. The youngest member of K and K huffed dramatically as he span aimlessly in his gaming chair, yelping when he inevitably tangled himself amongst the various cords and wires that were hanging from the back of his computer. He had spent the better part of an hour taking his computer apart, claiming that he needed a new graphics card and simply couldn't wait to install one. No, it was imperative he installed a new graphics card right that instant, life or death! However, as he was prone to do, the eighteen year old had promptly lost focus and neglected his project outright after forty eight minutes of scattered concentration, leaving his poor innocent computer nude and exposed with it's delicates on show. Grunt had already vehemently protested against such sacrilege, claiming it physically pained him to see a poor blameless computer left in such a sorrowful state, but his pleas fell unheeded on deaf ears. Demo was incurably bored and he was determined to make the rest of them suffer.

One and 97 observed curiously as Demo fell backwards, tipping haphazardly in his reclining seat, shrouded in wires and hopelessly unbalanced. The kid was a danger to himself and he was only going to drag the rest of them down with him in the series of calamities that masqueraded as his life! As predicted, it wasn't long until gravity triumphed against Demo's pointless one sided war; he yelped melancholically as his computer slid dangerously along the desk, almost upending his abandoned cup of coffee and causing a floor wide short circuit. It was only his teammates' insanely quick reflexes that prevented the younger boy from being lynched and electrocuted by his own computer. Talk about impaling yourself on your own sword!

Grunt glowered darkly as he flounced to his rescue with mood incredibly bad grace, tugging impatiently on the neck of his high necked black sweater. "Demo, little idiot, we've told you to stop swinging about on your chair like that! If you break something, you know Boss will blame us of all and dock all of our pay cheques!" Grunt admonished the youth sharply as he helped unravel the mess he had created. Demo was an excellent CTF competitor, quick as a whip when he needed to be and eager to learn - the downfall was that his natural exuberance meant he was restless and needy like a puppy. He just about drove them up the wall! Demo sulked silently as Grunt neatly coiled the salvaged wires with an unnecessary flourish, his gaze challenging as he placed the roll on the edge of Demo's desk. "Behave, or I'll make you test my new batch of face-masks again!" He warned, his glasses glinting under the spotlights of the gaming area. Demo quailed under the weight of Grunt's threat, his nerves clearly audible when he stammered "no, not again, my face was red and itchy for over a week last time!" The K and K baby's voice rose exponentially as he tugged on Grunt's arm in alarm, almost pulling him sideways. Grunt sighed deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice tight as he groaned "One, tag, you're it. It's your turn to walk him."

Demo stuck his tongue out as his senior ambled over to the coffee machine, clearly washing his hands of the entire situation. All he wanted was something to do, why were they all so angry with him today? He was so sick of black and green DOS windows and the AWSD keys - he just wanted to hang with his buddies, was that really so wrong? Demo turned to One, his expression glum and beseeching - his puppy dog eyes must have broken through the other boy's tenuous resistance, as he heaved a massive sigh before casting his eyes about the room for inspiration. His gaze landed on something small and pink, clearly out of place in the largely masculine space. "What's that?" One asked lightly, gesturing his chin towards the foreign, unidentified flying object. Demo frowned as he picked it up, turning it over and over in his hands, his small brow creased. "It's a magazine... Sister-in-law must have left it here..." One held up his hands as he motioned for his younger peer to throw him the magazine; his expression was comically blank as it sailed right past his ear with a rustle, off the mark by approximately eight inches. One shook his head disbelievingly as Demo sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, contrite as he muttered "I guess I need to work on my aim..." His team member snorted as he retrieved the item in question; "You think?" One asked rhetorically, his eyes rolled skywards as he theorised "for a CTF player, your hand eye coordination is abysmal." Demo blushed fiercely as One flipped through the magazine, his curiosity piqued as he landed on a page entitled Find Out What Woman You Are Inside. "Hey Demo," he smirked, "how do you feel about taking a little quiz?" His grin was wide and Demo smiled tentatively in response, clearly thrown by the unexpected question. "I guess..." he agreed uncertainly, paling when One cheerfully patted the spot on the sofa next to him. He had a feeling he was being taken for a ride in some way, but he didn't have enough evidence to go up against One unarmed.