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Two Sides, One Hero

"Blam blam! Pewpewpewpew!"

That's all you've been hearing for the past hour. Leaning against the Manfred Mustermann console with your arms crossed, you were watching your very determined friend try to beat the top score of the Game Hole's most deserted game. Not by choice, but by the fact that Randy Cunningham was on it for a really long time. The console was surrounded by pop cans, and he himself was wearing a headband with two attached to each side of his head. He took a sip, coughed, and just ripped the thing off before continuing his game. You, on the other hand, were absolutely done with this crap.

""Let's all meet at the Game Hole" he said, "It'll be a blast", he said," you mumbled, sighing as you recalled the phone conversation from earlier that day. A small song of victory played as the game declared Randy's level up, to which your friend was sweating up a storm. You dug in your bag, already prepared for the situation. "I gotcha, bro," You said in a slightly sassy manner, pulling out a handkerchief to hand to him.

He gratefully took it, wiping his forehead and his face. "Thanks, (Y/n)," He said, tossing it back to you to continue his game. "I owe ya one." You gagged a bit as you held onto a sweaty corner of the cloth with the pinch of your fingers, tossing it into a nearby trash bin as Howard approached the two of you.

"Uuum, I come with a message from the Food Hole," he said, pointing at Randy. "You're bogartin' the Mustermann and people are not happy." He gestures behind him, making you lean out to look over. Four teenage boys were standing in a line, glaring and growling toward Randy. You give a hesitant wave and weak smile, ducking behind the game again. Who knew game nerds were so intimidating?

"Howard," Randy said, mashing the few buttons on his side while frantically moving his joystick around. "I have dropped 8 hours, blam! And two weeks allowance into this game, blam blam! I'm finally about to beat it!"

"Or you'll fail miserably, whine about it later, and try to blame anything else for your loss like you have for the past 8 hours...!" You add, crossing your arms again as the subtle "Oooooh" came from the growing crowd behind Randy.

"Details, (Y/n)," Randy said as he quickly waved his hand dismissively. "Details."

Randy continued to play as the crowd around watched, almost amazed by his skill. Sadly for Randy, that fame only lasted for a few moments. "Oh, no...!" He said, panic growing. "Oh no, I'm out!" You could see from your angle the intensity on his face, trying to get away from the enemy in his game.

"What did I tell ya?" You ask, gesturing to the game with an 'I told you so' look on your face.

Howard, while trying not to laugh, decided to get it on the action. He pulled out his own quarter and inserted it on the other side of the game. "Welcome, Baby Buckaroo!" the game declared as Howard's avatar came on screen. Randy looked over at him, surprised but also confused. "What are you doing?" He asked, never stopping his gameplay.

"Saving your butt," Howard responded, cracking his knuckles before leaning against the console.

"My butt doesn't need saving!" Randy defended, still continuing his button mashing.

Howard only rolled his eyes and looked over at you, pointing the button his finger was under. You gave him a thumbs up, giving him the signal to go on. He did, and one gun gun-cock later, the game was won. "Baby Buckaroo is hero of the victory!" The game declared while poorly made fanfare went on. Everyone around cheered, except Randy, who looked dumbfounded.

"What the juice?" He asked, looking at Howard as he proudly made finger guns toward the sky. You gave a small giggle, then watch as the crowd parted to let the lengthy owner of the Game Hole walk over, a lazy yet proud smile on his face.