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Subject: In Which Humanity Is Exterminated But We Dance Well Together rss

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Ruiner of Things
United States
Wichita
Kansas
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Well, once again we find that clowning and anarchy don't mix.
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My son is entirely too cheerful for a boy who's grounded. Due to unacceptable levels of whininess, disobedience and general naughtiness, he is spending a week in the dog house (figuratively, of course--we don't have a dog, and I don't have time to build a tiny house).

This grounding does not apply to boardgames, and we have time to squeeze in a game of The Omega Virus before bedtime. My wife won't play this game, and he doesn't like to play it competitively, so we play cooperatively against the virus.

We begin by choosing our regular colors: green for me, red for him. I set it for difficulty level 1 to shorten the game a little and provide a tougher challenge.

Even though we've already agreed to use 0,0 as our secret code, he shields his selection from me as he punches it in. I ask why, and his only response is a giggle.

So we begin as usual, alternating our moves as the computer pleads "Help me" and the virus taunts "You human scum!" Honestly, we don't need the computer voice, because my son is shouting "You human scum!" every three seconds.

We begin exploring the station, making unusually slow progress. We can't find the access cards we need, our probes get destroyed and time slips away.

I get distracted by something on the television, and when I look back I notice that my son is taking a long time on his turn. His commando is in the hallway doing what I can only describe as a combination of The Jitterbug and a Russian folk dance.

"Um...what are you doing?" I ask.

He uses his oh my you're such an idiot expression. "Dancing."

He uses that expression a lot. I'm not really sure why.

"Um...yeah," I continue, "but...why?"

He shrugs and finishes up with an inspired homage to Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo.

We blunder along, hoping for our luck to turn. The Twist, The Hustle, The Mashed Potato and something I dub The Squiggy Wiggy somehow fail to deter the evil ambitions of the loquacious computer virus.

As the timer winds down and we are unable to find the last items we need, the virus mocks us mercilessly.

Unlike the intrepid heroes of Electric Boogaloo, we are unable to use our mad skills to save the day. After a bevy of dance steps and one tweaked hamstring, we are humbled and defeated by Mr. Chatty Pants and his arsenal of cruel taunts.

The space station is lost. Earth's cities are burning cinders.

My son shrugs and dances off toward the bathroom to brush his teeth. It looks like he's working on a new routine already.

Next time, virus, next time. We're gonna dance circles around you. We'll call it Electric Boogaloo: Payback.
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John W
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mistermarino wrote:
So we begin as usual, alternating our moves as the computers pleads "Help me" and the virus taunts "You human scum!" Honestly, we don't need the computer voice, because my son is shouting "You human scum!" every three seconds.

That was LOL funny.
Thanks for the report. I've gotta try out this game somehow....

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Ethan Van Vorst
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Spencer
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Rofl! Hoooo boy! Great session report, left me crying!
 
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