Skip to main content

The Sweet Run

   Hey, everyone. I have been playing quite a bit of games this weekend, as well as painting my house. Late last night I got on a sweet run on Nova 3, the sci-fi shooter game. It's one of those games that has excellent graphics and feels like you have to advance inch by bloody inch. In a word, it is a pain in the butt.
    For instance, I have been stuck on a Volterite spaceship for a month, wandering corridors over and over again like a lost puppy.
    I finally cruised over to You Tube and watched a video walkthrough of the level. I eventually noticed that the guy picked up a piece of crystal from the floor in a dark corner of a 'solarium'. So, I went back to the game and at length came back to that area and picked up a crystal shard. Cool, right? I went on my way rejoicing in my heart. I had wild visions of advancing effortlessly through the remainder of this derelict ship and moving on to other exciting levels. Maybe I'd get to go to a desert planet or a jungle with fantastic beasts and savage men. Instead, I've fought and fought and fought. I was killed many times trying to jump across a chasm. Once on the other side I fought and killed a bunch of aliens and then was killed by the same fall on the way back. Then I get on a futuristic subway and get delivered to a hotbed of armored warriors. I will persevere, however, and I suppose I would have to call my advancement through several save points as a sweet run. That's what gamers call an interlude in which you are kicking butt and taking names, advancing toward your objective in a very satisfactory manner.
    Calling this a sweet run might be a stretch and my butt was kicked as much as anyone's. I'm not sure, but I suspect that my name was taken a few times by the Volterites. They are ugly brutes with atrocious manners and I will doubtless give them a sound thrashing later this evening.
    Until that time,I will grill a steak and reflect on the cruelty of this breed of creatures.  I'll be plotting my vengeance as I watch the butter and sour cream melt on my baked potato. It is my fervent hope that you have a fun date night and not sit around the house like this reporter. If you should game this weekend, think about me, here at the green retreat, aboard the eternally careening spaceship of the Volterites.
 I am CE Wills.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The White Chicken Mystery

    The other night I happened to come home very late. It was the middle of the night and I was driving up a steep mountain road. Near the top I saw something white in my headlights. It was standing in the other lane, standing very still. It was a large white chicken. It was probably a rooster because I thought I could see his comb as I whizzed by at my customary pace. He never moved a muscle. This is weird, don't you think?      After a couple of days to consider this phenomenon, I have come up with some plausible answers for his bizarre behavior. 1. He was conflicted whether or not he should cross the road. 2. He was feeling cocky and decided to play chicken with the traffic. 3.He was being hen-pecked at home and had decided to end it all. 4. Someone had egged him on to do it. 5. He had just watched the movie Fantastic Four and decided to try to stop a truck the way that Ben Grimm did on the bridge. 6. He had driven himself crazy wondering if ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Egg Art

     Hey, everyone. One of the odd customs in America is the Easter Egg Hunt. Here at the Green Retreat, we do a hunt every Spring. I just ran across some of the pictures from this years hunt and it is obvious that an artist had sneaked into our midst. The orange egg is a rendering of one of the Angry Birds of gaming lore. If I were a bird and had to pass an egg that size, I would be angry too. Ha, ha.      We typically will dye about 10 dozen eggs and people get quite creative with their quotes and colors, as you can see. Many of the eggs are a bit risque for these pages. After having a few laughs, we hide the eggs. All of them are never found, which is cool. It is amusing to see old men (me) and all ages of folks, walking around with a basket on their arm. Some of the hiding spots are dastardly. Like eggs hidden in the guttering downspouts and ten foot up a tree. The kids are perhaps the most devious at hiding the colorful orbs, goi...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Biscuit

    Hey, everyone. What a relief that Christmas is over, huh? I don't think it was meant to be the way it is.     I started thinking about the so-called good 'ole days today. My wife says that at her house, they would take a left-over biscuit and shine their shoes before church. I one-upped her by saying, "Oh, yeah? I ate the biscuit when everyone got finished with it. And I was grateful for it." Truly, though, you can and people did, shine their shoes with a biscuit. Hey, they were greasy little buggers.     Speaking of greasy little buggers, I remember when everyone had wells and were very conservative about water, particularly those of us who had to crank a handle up and down to get a bucket of water. There was no daily bath. (No showers in those days, mate.) About twice a week we took a bath and here's the recipe: The oldest kid took a bath first, then the next oldest etc. You can see why younger siblings hated the older. Bathing in the...
Post a Comment
Read more