"I always wondered what hooking up these wires does! I never touched them because I didn't want to break this rickety old box, but you either broke it so good or fixed it so good, I don't care anymore." Joe stood up from his crouch and gawked further at Jose's play. Jose was unfazed by the unsolvable maze! He was cruising it, scoring points (and at some points dirty socks or abstract concepts instead) with nothing glorping in his way. Whatever underlying pattern there was to the travels of Androgyno-Pacman, left right black white...
The policeman on the left picked up on the thought: "The aim of the game is to feel real good."
Wait, what? What policeman on the left? Besides the one wearing the badge reading "POLICE," Joe meant. Besides that one. Well, and besides the policeman on the right, bearing a badge that read "ACID."
"Acid!" shouted Police.
"Police!" shouted Acid.
"You want another hamburger?" Lemtata politely asked Acid, pulling a fiftieth Jill-in-the-Box out of her pocket to rest along the 49 others she'd already pulled out. (When did she start with that, wondered Joe. And why aren't there ketchup smears on her pants? And come to think of it --)
"Are you not men?" shouted Joe confrontationally.
"Are you a cabbage?" asked Police, taking off his badge and presenting it in his hand.
"Uh... walnut pie?" Joe replied nervously, hoping his answer was satisfactory. He became even more nervous when a turtledove appeared in his hands and flew off, but Police began clapping and dancing, so he figured he'd passed the test.
Jose didn't say a word, although when Acid threw him a thumbs-up, Jose vomited happily in approval.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Monday, February 3, 2014
Level 143
"the auld story line throbbed out with a pang, The Beatles broke the band up, long hair did hang, when Schmillinger Schmang!"
Jose pounded on the machine once, shouting "Yes! Yes! YES!!!!!"
Joe stopped singing, half heartedly still plucking the next part of the song on the thumb piano. He walked over to see what was happening.
His breath was caught in his throat. Jose was now on level 143. Which was of course, impossible.
Not only that, but it appeared that the game had now become half Ms. Pac-man, and half Pac-man, the Pac-man side on the right and the Ms. Pacman on the left, so that if Pac-man was going left you couldn't see the red bow on its head, but if she was going to the right, you could. Which didn't make any sense at all.
Joe walked to the back of the console and jiggled a couple wires.
"Whathefuckareyoudoing!?" Shouted Jose, who briefly flashed an angry glance around the console.
Lemtata was only vaguely interested, intent on her issue of "Man Hater" magazine.
Jose pounded on the machine once, shouting "Yes! Yes! YES!!!!!"
Joe stopped singing, half heartedly still plucking the next part of the song on the thumb piano. He walked over to see what was happening.
His breath was caught in his throat. Jose was now on level 143. Which was of course, impossible.
Not only that, but it appeared that the game had now become half Ms. Pac-man, and half Pac-man, the Pac-man side on the right and the Ms. Pacman on the left, so that if Pac-man was going left you couldn't see the red bow on its head, but if she was going to the right, you could. Which didn't make any sense at all.
Joe walked to the back of the console and jiggled a couple wires.
"Whathefuckareyoudoing!?" Shouted Jose, who briefly flashed an angry glance around the console.
Lemtata was only vaguely interested, intent on her issue of "Man Hater" magazine.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Defeat of the Pedants
Joe stared bug-eyed at Jose's outstanding play. It wasn't just the improvement, it was --
"Jose?"
"Yeah," Jose muttered, visibly in another dimension in thought.
"You know this is actually Ms. Pac Man, right?"
"Fugyoumanstopsayindumbshit."
It was as Joe thought! Jose really was convinced he was playing the original Pac Man. It wasn't too surprising... Jose had been calling out the original fruit names, and kept talking about reaching level 255. Joe knew that his Ms. Pac Man crashed already at level 142.
To Joe's amazement, Jose was now on level 141 (and barely conscious, though also incredibly awake from the coke... Jose called it the "Heisenbuzz").
Joe started to tinkle on his handpiano, and began to sing.
"When Dillinger sang..."
"Jose?"
"Yeah," Jose muttered, visibly in another dimension in thought.
"You know this is actually Ms. Pac Man, right?"
"Fugyoumanstopsayindumbshit."
It was as Joe thought! Jose really was convinced he was playing the original Pac Man. It wasn't too surprising... Jose had been calling out the original fruit names, and kept talking about reaching level 255. Joe knew that his Ms. Pac Man crashed already at level 142.
To Joe's amazement, Jose was now on level 141 (and barely conscious, though also incredibly awake from the coke... Jose called it the "Heisenbuzz").
Joe started to tinkle on his handpiano, and began to sing.
"When Dillinger sang..."
Wino Dinoh.
After several glasses of wine and thirteen more Pac-Man attempts, Jose realized that he was improving with drink. This usually also occurred with both his billiard and bowling games. There was a curve he could note where he got better and better with more drinks until it plateaued and finally he would have that one too many, and his game would once again go to shit.
But tonight, Jose was on fire for a while, because he'd decided to try to keep the plateau going by slowing down on the drink and supplementing the buzz with brownies and coke.
Joe stood by frowning with confusion as Jose got to the twelfth board.
"This does NOT feel like Deja Vu." Joe muttered.
Jose chuckled evilly and said "Waka waka waka waka waka waka waka...", simulating Pac Man's chompy chomp chomp sound.
Lemtata stood by and rolled her eyes, then did a three pointer with the empty wine bottle from across the living room. It shattered with great dramatic effect inside the recycling bin.
Jose jolted, startled, then swore.
"I'm trying to fuckin' focus, god damn it!"
Lemtata retreated to the kitchen to retrieve yet another bottle of red. She glared at them both sardonically as she passed.
"You fucking geekazoids." She smiled and shook her head.
But tonight, Jose was on fire for a while, because he'd decided to try to keep the plateau going by slowing down on the drink and supplementing the buzz with brownies and coke.
Joe stood by frowning with confusion as Jose got to the twelfth board.
"This does NOT feel like Deja Vu." Joe muttered.
Jose chuckled evilly and said "Waka waka waka waka waka waka waka...", simulating Pac Man's chompy chomp chomp sound.
Lemtata stood by and rolled her eyes, then did a three pointer with the empty wine bottle from across the living room. It shattered with great dramatic effect inside the recycling bin.
Jose jolted, startled, then swore.
"I'm trying to fuckin' focus, god damn it!"
Lemtata retreated to the kitchen to retrieve yet another bottle of red. She glared at them both sardonically as she passed.
"You fucking geekazoids." She smiled and shook her head.
Reboot Redux
Suddenly, everyone died.
This was only a minor inconvenience for our heroes, as they were all painless deaths, and they had no afterlives. Nor were there mourners or mourned, since they all died at once. No inheritances were squabbled over, and no one felt ashamed for not finding out about the deaths until they read Facebook the next day. Because they were dead.
Nature had a rough time of it for a while - lots of nuclear meltdowns, broken dams, continent-wide fires and the like, and the squirrels took it all rather personally, but too bad for them. After all, why should they complain? Within a mere billion years, before a slightly dimmer sun, two evolved Bonobos (though they called themselves, in translation to now-forgotten English, "Humans") stood playing a 20-year-old Ms. Pac Man machine in a northern province of Ameristanlee, a young nation that a mere 200 years before had dragged the world from monarchy to democracy.
"Man, you suck at this game," Joe tactfully informed Jose. Joe was always very proud of his tact, and of the crackerjack ring he wore on his left pinky.
"Joe, I can't practice this game 20 hours a day like you do," Jose retorted.
"Whiner."
"Diner."
"Forty-niner."
"Pizza pancakes."
"Snerrnnl GIGFLATTA!"
By then they were laughing so hard they didn't notice when Lemtata ("Man, my girl has a sexy name!" Joe always told himself) descended into the basement with a wine bottle in one hand and a handpiano in the other.
"Feeling dejá vu right now, Jose?"
"No way, Joe... say, though, y'ever feel like it did all happen before, a billion years ago and in a different way?"
"Not really, Jose..."
Joe reverently cradled his handpiano and began to sing and play.
This was only a minor inconvenience for our heroes, as they were all painless deaths, and they had no afterlives. Nor were there mourners or mourned, since they all died at once. No inheritances were squabbled over, and no one felt ashamed for not finding out about the deaths until they read Facebook the next day. Because they were dead.
Nature had a rough time of it for a while - lots of nuclear meltdowns, broken dams, continent-wide fires and the like, and the squirrels took it all rather personally, but too bad for them. After all, why should they complain? Within a mere billion years, before a slightly dimmer sun, two evolved Bonobos (though they called themselves, in translation to now-forgotten English, "Humans") stood playing a 20-year-old Ms. Pac Man machine in a northern province of Ameristanlee, a young nation that a mere 200 years before had dragged the world from monarchy to democracy.
"Man, you suck at this game," Joe tactfully informed Jose. Joe was always very proud of his tact, and of the crackerjack ring he wore on his left pinky.
"Joe, I can't practice this game 20 hours a day like you do," Jose retorted.
"Whiner."
"Diner."
"Forty-niner."
"Pizza pancakes."
"Snerrnnl GIGFLATTA!"
By then they were laughing so hard they didn't notice when Lemtata ("Man, my girl has a sexy name!" Joe always told himself) descended into the basement with a wine bottle in one hand and a handpiano in the other.
"Feeling dejá vu right now, Jose?"
"No way, Joe... say, though, y'ever feel like it did all happen before, a billion years ago and in a different way?"
"Not really, Jose..."
Joe reverently cradled his handpiano and began to sing and play.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Word Association with Joe
"Charles Manson, 1934, Kindergarten, "Just a Spoonful Of Sugar", Mary Poppins, ice cream, homemade, salt, sugar, The Rolling Stones, liver and onions, my Dad, chest hair, Martina Naterchalova, nothing, exists, Betty Gurley, Lucille Ball, money, Pink Floyd, Dark Side Of The Moon, prisons, bread line, Metallica, hair,Bugs Bunny, The Carol Burnett Show, death, mold, oranges, nerve center, St. Elmo's Fire, Don Henley, This Side Up, Eggs, B & B Foods, West Milton, Mr. Weidner, Fantasy and Sci-Fi Mag, Joe Knapka, big thesis papers, Greek Literature, Mac Lucky, Mac The Knife, jazz singing, Billie Holiday, Johnny Rotten, Sid Vicious, Watership Down, animation, creation, RNA, circular stairways, M.C. Escher, Erik Piper, erasers, candy, whores, Eddie Murphy, hairgrease, Ronald Reagan, S.O.B., soapy, film, Charlie Chaplin, Bill Wagner, bones, archeology, Marna Hostetler, cassettes, suitcase, "Leavin On A Jet Plane", Paris, prison, A Tale Of Two Cities, Ms. Jacobs, Shelley Long, "Cheers", Troy, BK Foto, glasses made while you wait, een uur, Zarathrustra, Black vinyl LP's, death, mold, peaches, unhusked corn, '76, Laura, Palmer, Pine Lysol, me, myself, rap, Uzis, George Steinbrenner, Knickerbocker, cricket, whine, cry, snuffle, Big Bird, "It's Not That Easy Bein' Green", "Green Hell", Fuscia, "Heathers", Daniel, motorcycles, crime, Roy Orbison, Buddy Holly, "Crimson and Clover", Pat Benatar, running away from home, hand bags, Salem Mall, escalators, elevated train, Chicago, The United Center, snow." said Bob.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Reboot
"Cut! Cut!" cried Tubby.
"Why?" inquired Signore Pizzicato.
"BECAUSE I'M NOT CRYING ENOUGH! I LAID THESE ONIONS IN FRONT OF YOU FOR A REASON!! How are we supposed to break our children viewers' hearts if I'm not crying worth a damn?!" replied Tubby, sucking worriedly on his cigar, in tears (but not enough in tears).
"Yeah, Tubby? Well how can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat, chum?"
"That's ridiculous, Pizzicato! I can't eat, I'm a fucking tuba!"
"Why?" inquired Signore Pizzicato.
"BECAUSE I'M NOT CRYING ENOUGH! I LAID THESE ONIONS IN FRONT OF YOU FOR A REASON!! How are we supposed to break our children viewers' hearts if I'm not crying worth a damn?!" replied Tubby, sucking worriedly on his cigar, in tears (but not enough in tears).
"Yeah, Tubby? Well how can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat, chum?"
"That's ridiculous, Pizzicato! I can't eat, I'm a fucking tuba!"
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