Thursday, May 17, 2012

A story of dialysis, gencon and gary gygax's dice part 7

For us this was joy, Brian excluded.  Derek and I loved these games, loved the dark and sound.  Even the art and Marque titles were well loved friends. Our Third, Brian, milled around the pinball play area looking forlorn.  We were sorry , to a small degree, but too excited to worry.

Black Tiger and Rastan fought with us and Spy hunter speed and swam.  Moon Patrol moved forward with every quarters, much to Billy Mitchell's chagrin.  Derek and I tried for fastest completion on Cadash but I lost interest when Star Castles powered to life.  This was my game, my childhood my first love.  The game I rode my bike across town for, collected pennies for.  Really I don't know how long I played but my back hurt when I heard the Derek begin to yell. 

Off in a corner a Chapman stick player had been tapping out the themes to several video games.  Apparently Derek insisted on accompanying him but often changed the tune to something off Celtic frost's tragic serenades. Then Brian swung wild with an air hockey paddle and the puck exploded into flight. Clattering off the back glass players ducked in fright.  Arising in anger and scanning for the source, they found Brian smiling at the table still playing though the puck was gone. The fight that erupted almost made perfect since framed like this.  The battle itself made none, one armed with a guitar and the other running underfoot.  A high score holder when down when the guitar bludgeoned him with that twang. I hurried the pair out as quickly as I could.  This wasn't the first time this had happened.

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