“Will You Join Me?”
Freewill Gone Wrong.
The pitter-patter of rain droplets from a gutter was quickly silenced by a footstep splashing through a puddle, followed by a sickening thud as a body fell to the hard pavement. Two fighters emerged from the ally. One wiped sweat from his brow while the other adjusted his bandana.
Fighting with chains, bats, and pipes, they pummeled through hoards of lackeys that fell like dominoes. The two swept up and down dark streets, an unfaltering confidence in each step as they pressed on through the gang infested city.
Eventually, their journey had reached its climax: they were face to face with the gang leader. Being surprisingly reasonable, he offered them a final plea bargain before the inevitable brawl:
Will You Join Me?
Outside the hum of the TV screen, far beyond the crime ridden city, sat two young boys. Across their screen read a simple “Yes” or “No.” The rapid, senseless clicking of buttons had reached an abrupt halt at this unusual fork in the road. Their curious gazes met as they contemplated the gravity of this decision.
They had endured countless waves of vandals, and for what? Being the “good guy” was the default option in the 8-bit universe. It was always you versus the “bad guys,” but there was never a question of why. What had these “villains” done that could be so unforgivably bad? They were fighting just the same. Now, presented with the choice to join them, the boys began to question the game itself.
The onscreen prompt hung its square cursor around the “no” option, patiently flickering in and out of existence, as if trying to choose for them.
Joining the ranks of evil and obliterating all that stands for justice, and leaving devastation and destruction in their wake with no consequences? The city was as good as theirs.
Mischievous grins slowly began to replace their confused expressions as they simultaneously reached the same conclusion. In a quick motion, Player 1 flicked the cross pattern D-pad to the right. Hastily pressing down the A button, the two sealed their decision with a triumphant high-five, eagerly choosing a new and exciting fate.
The screen flashed, warping into a chaotic mismatch of colors scored by an antagonistic laugh, a jarring contrast to the neatly pixellated scene only moments before. The screen had been devoured by an infinite black.
With a sudden ding, a familiar set of letters instantly punctured the blackness:
Stage 1
The plastic rectangle of a controller fell to the floor with a hollow clack, as its cord went slack, and an all too familiar scene replaced the black. The two avatars were slowly surrounded by a menacing group of pipe brandishing gangsters.
-M
