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.
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.
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.
When it’s break time at work that means it’s game time for me. My coworkers are used to seeing me playing my DS or PSP on my lunch breaks, but today is going to be a little different. Instead of passively sitting with a system in my hands, I’m hoping to get in some time with WarioWare: Snapped! Playing the game requires waving and shaking my head, arms, and hands like an idiot, and I’d rather not be on display while doing this. Thankfully, I’m the only one currently in the break room and so I should be able enjoy the game without worry of public humiliation. Well, that was the plan, anyway. As I’m trying to help a cute little dog shake away water by moving my head side-to-side, one of my coworkers walks into the break room and gives me a strange look. “What are you doing?” she inquires. “Oh, I’m playing this game where your body controls what’s happening on screen while a camera takes photos of how stupid you look.” I finish the last microgame then show her the snapshots the game took of me during the play session. My coworker starts laughing at the silly photos then says “You’re weird” before leaving the room.
The tension is really building. This could be the end for my poor scuba diver. He’s trying his best to reach the bottom of the ocean, but I’m not doing my part. It’s not for lack of effort, though. I’m scrambling like crazy to move blocks into place to help him reach his destination sooner. However, as the air runs out, the water gets darker, and for the life of me I can’t see what I’m doing. There are three flashing blocks that I’m supposed to match up to fill up the diver’s air tank, but they’re scattered all over the place and it doesn’t look like I’lll be able to make it in time, especially with the pressure heightened by the pulse-pounding music. It’s getting louder… and louder… and LOUDER… and I can’t take it any more! Aaaaah! No more air! The ocean depths have claimed another victim.