A great disturbance in the ForceAugust 10, 2007
For the past week, this casual game has been occupying the spare cycles of me & a few friends. The goal is deceptively simple. Fire a ball into the arena. It will swell up until it touches a wall, or another ball. Then, using more shots, try & destroy the ball. It takes three hits to remove a ball completely. You lose immediately if one of your shots ricochets back beyond the firing line. For a while now I could rest easy knowing that the high score in my peer group was owned by me, but today a onetime friend & now fierce adversary has usurped the throne. My 30 points pales to his 34. I know what you’re all thinking: who would do such a thing? Why did I not sense his potential for betrayal earlier? I should have cut off his mousing finger when I had the chance.
But I’m not here to dwell on his wicked misdeeds, but rather to tell you an even deeper tragedy. Earlier today I was all set to restore honor & dignity to the Jonson name by reclaiming the lead when a tragic misfire occurred. The ball immediately ricocheted back & I was undone. This game is such a cruel task mistress, I’m not sure any of you who haven’t fallen prey to its wiles can truly understand. Let me just say this: until today, I had always thought that if I was ever granted one-time access to a time machine I would go back and warn the passengers on the Titantic not to board, or perhaps try & shoot Hitler before he came to power. But now I know the truth. When I get my hands on a time machine, I’m going back to earlier today, right before I clicked the mouse button on that fateful shot. Sorry, Jews. I’ll make it up to you!