Where did my son go? He seemed upset that I couldn’t keep playing with him, but I had a job to do. I was planning to spend more time with him once I finished my work. I thought he would understand. But now he is nowhere to be found. Maybe he’ll return when I’m finished with my obligations. But I have a feeling he won’t. I missed out.
The beast wants out. A dose of sunlight from my Gun del Sol settles it down for now. I’d better hurry and drag this casket outside so I can put the monster trapped inside out of its misery. The scraping of wood upon the dungeon’s cobblestones makes me a target for monsters in the area. Normally I’d simply sneak past them, but that’s not a possibility now. It takes me a few minutes to attend to the unwanted company. While I’m occupied, my prisoner begins making so much fuss that the coffin shuffles about, as if of its own accord. Nice try, but you’re not getting away that easily. I press forward and soon the dungeon’s entrance is in sight. The blazing sun is a sight for sore eyes. Perfect weather for erasing an Immortal from existence.
Goodbye, my dear. I am glad you were my companion on our journey. Yes, at times being together was difficult. In fact, it would have probably been easier if I had gone alone. But it would not have been anywhere near as rewarding. And now you are gone. Without you, what is the point in moving forward? What is the point of anything we do, really? No matter how many treasures we accumulate… Now matter how far we travel… We all end up in the same place.
Grandpa will just have to wait. I was on my way to help him in the vegetable garden when a couple emergencies arose. The pansies are wilting, so I need to hurry and take care of them. But Papa is freaking out because the apple tree needs attention, and he can’t take care of it by himself. Mama’s work is never done, it seems. Don’t worry, everyone! Mama will take care of it… Like I always do… Day after day after day. Isn’t gardening supposed to be relaxing? Maybe I should’ve just stuck to cooking.
They haven’t given up, I’ll give them that. For the past few days, five feline adventurers have attempted to free me from my prison. Alas, the room I’m trapped in is pitch black, and the brave kitties can’t make any headway on liberating me. Maybe it’s all in vain. I almost feel guilty that so much effort is being wasted on me. I think I hear them approaching now. Yes, they’ve entered the room. I’m ready for another disappointment. Wait a minute. What’s this? A light?! Yes! One of the brave warriors has used magic to illuminate the room! Hooray! But… oh no. There are two armored ghosts guarding my cage. At least my would-be rescuers can see what they’re up against. They swing their swords with mighty blows, but it’s not enough defeat my captors. The cats make their retreat. Still, this is progress. This gives me hope. Perhaps tomorrow I shall be free. But for now, I guess there’s nothing to do but be patient.
My son is supposed to be getting ready for bed, so what the heck is with all that noise? I hear lots of laughter and what sounds like yelling and grunting coming from upstairs. I decide I’d better head up there and investigate. When I enter my boy’s room, it all makes sense: He got his hands on my DSi and is playing Photo Dojo. I haven’t played the game in months, and I doubt my little guy remembers back to when I snapped photos and recorded voice clips of him for the game. All he knows is it’s absolutely hilarious to see tiny versions of the two of us fighting on the DSi’s screen. “Look, Daddy! I’m beating you!” The Photo Dojo version of me emits repeated cries of despair as it is pummeled by my son’s in-game alter ego. Taunts boasting “You’re weak!” come thorugh the DSi’s speakers. I leave my son to his fun while I go brush my teeth, hoping that tonight I can somehow manage to stay awake long enough so that I can get a turn playing Photo Dojo, too.
Balancing a 14-month-old on my lap is proving to be detrimental to my performance. I used to play this game for hours at a time on my Dreamcast a decade ago, but I’d never played the original arcade version until now. My skills are definitely rusty, and my daughter is not helping one bit. “No no, Yoshie!” She’s not listening. I turn my body sideways to keep the wheel out of her reach, but that leaves me with only one hand to work with. We’re running out of time and our customer is getting impatient. At least B.D. Joe has got our back with this unruly passenger. “Shut up and move your butt!” The drop-off location is coming into view but there are only seconds left. There’s no way we’re going to make it. I look down at my daughter and she’s grinning, her eyes fixated on the screen and her hands still reaching toward the steering wheel. Our final score was laughable, but this was the best game of Crazy Taxi ever.