Death of a Geek

I quit my favorite RPG last week.

Big whoop, I know, but I played that game with a feverish enthusiasm that lasted for upwards of 6 years.

It’s about fucking time, Jackie says, leaning forward on her hands as she sits on the counter and swings her legs back and forth. She ought to have a big pink bubble inflating from puckered lips as she stares at me with such deadpan confidence. That was gettin’ real hard to stop tellin’ people about since you were on it so damn much. Now you can stop being the weird online role-play  girl and can start being...I dunno, the sexy misanthropic writer or something. You and Marge work out the kinks on the name, she adds, wagging her finger from me to Margot.

Jackie’s the socialite and even though she appears to care very little what people think of her, she has the best idea of what image to project in public. She’s the one wearing the cocky grin and holding a double whiskey while swearing unabashedly and throwing her hip out to the side. She’s the one telling me to be ruthless and sweet all at the same time, tying up the bow prettily with a bit of spunk.

Jackie doesn’t give a fuck, so that means Jackie has to tell whoever she wants to about the game, see?

Still, she’s right: That nerdy-glasses, tomboy thing? It works for ya if the glasses do the heavy lifting on the nerd part.

I sat there after I’d written it just staring at the words, wondering if I had made a mistake in writing anything at all.

Don’t be a pussy, Bianca snarls.

A fingernail found its way into my mouth, a gentle tickticktick skipping therapeutically in my head as my teeth scraped against the tiny flap.

My inherent love of the game cropped up like a gremlin and I bit my lip. The stereotypical devil on my shoulder shook his jelly-bean butt at me and ran down the length of my arm to start jumping up and down on the finger that hovered over ‘DEL.’  I looked at him for a moment, head tilted, observing him the way a scientist might look at a rat that has done something interesting, admiring  the way his sharp fangs glimmered in the glare of my laptop as he held his pitchfork aloft and tried to stomp my finger into submission.

As soon as Margot noticed, her feathers ruffled.

YOU HAD BETTER NOT! Not after all that hard work I put in making this thing anything more than a child’s tantrum, I don’t THINK so!

And then, after her wits have returned, she smoothes her hands over her blouse and sits up straighter, tucking some of her misplaced bun behind her ear. I know where the Undo button is anyway.

Bianca’s all pissed off because I let Margot and Millie write it. She slammed her hands on the table so much so that a pellet of ash fell from the cigarette she bit between clenched teeth.

You oughtta write the whole thing the way it happened, without mercy just to show them how it feels. FUCK YOU, man! You’re still sucking their dicks, making them feel good about being assholes so you don’t come across looking like a jerk! This isn’t a review, it’s a giant dildo with their name written on it. You just didn’t include batteries and think you’re being all edgy.

She storms into the basement and slams the door behind her, burrowing deeper into the spiraling staircase behind my medulla oblongata to settle in a nerve somewhere.

God, is she gone already? Christ, she’s a handful! Jackie complains, wishing that she weren’t forever stuck with someone who was such a drag. Her eyes flash over to Margot then, panning up and down with irritation as the pencil-necked geek tutted over who didn’t run the dishwasher, she glanced longingly at the basement door.

Margot has the best handle on the situation, as she does on most of them.

Trust me, you would only regret it if you spewed your emotions all over it. She pats her hand on the top of the screen, indicating the same set of paragraphs that Bianca had so vehemently protested. These are accolades they rightly deserve and you know that. Besides, if you come across as an asshole then you may as well have written ‘wah wah, life’s unfair’ over and over again. It would have the same effect.

She’s right.

Shortly behind her, Millie takes a deep breath and pipes up, And they’re people too. It’s not like you’re completely blameless so show some tact and compassion. They did create the best game on the site, after all, and they were very willing to let you have freedom with your characters and always showed YOU respect…

Bianca, the vigilante, kicks down the basement door and stomps her boot on the broken beer bottles that act as her doormat.

THAT’S NOT THE POINT! They did nothing but talk constant shit to you about other people so obviously they don’t respect anyone. THAT’S the fucking point – it’s the principle, not the special treatment that YOU got! GODDAMNIT!

She breaks another beer bottle and then disappears into the basement, this time with a handle of whiskey and a single shot glass.

Jackie starts laughing heartily, and then claps her hands sarcastically from her casual perch on the arm of the couch.

Oh Bravo, drama-queen. Like any of us are buying that you’re this upset on anyone’s behalf other than your own.

Jackie’s not afraid of Bianca.

Don’t pick on her when she’s like this, you know it never helps, Millie hisses quietly, hopping up from the rocking horse and acting angry. Her fists ball up at her sides and she ventures a cautious look at the basement door, which is now creaking and groaning as cold belches of musty wind rattle it from within. After another cross look at Jackie, she steals across the floor on bare feet, artfully dodging the broken shards of glass to disappear down to the basement.

After a hasty edit, I logged into the website and posted the review onto my public page.

It’s not going to change anything. That much I know, but at least I said it.

From the darkest depths of my mind, Bianca stews, reminding me: if it was your intent to leave the game forever then you could have been as big a bitch as you wanted in the review. 

Pussy.