Last time, vysethebold found himself acting strangely. He is now craving the sweet sweet taste of Mountain Dew's Game Fuel more than ever, but his local store is out of stock because that punk Funky Fresh bought it all. Will he find some more, or will he quit and weep like a little girl? Hit past the break to find out.
10:18 PM
I see now that even when Funky Fresh isn't present, he is thwarting my every move. He fouls ups my gaming record, my ear canals with his speech, and now my plans to get more Game Fuel. I can't get his image out of my mind, taunting me to even try to beat him at Gears of War. At this point my rage against Funky Fresh was at its height. He is everything I hate and everything I've spent my life trying not to be. I need to put him in his place. But I realize now that he is only part of my current dilemma. "I NEED THAT GAME FUEL SLUPEE! I NEED IT NOW MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD," my brain tells me as I walked towards my automobile.
I pull out of the parking lot at breakneck speed with screeching tires while loosing a hubcap. I see a solon on the side of the highway and fight with all my being to get out and have them do one of those flippy things to my hair that the chicks love so much. At the same time, I'm horrified by the thoughts that just entered my head. At this point I'm coming to a realization that I've been having odd compulsions outside of those for Game Fuel lately. I've never thought of listening to the top 40 radio stations, get a haircut at a solon (c'mon I get my hair cut at a barber shop), or seek for a soft drink in such a violent frenzy. I don't know what's making me behave this way.
I do know that I need to alleviate this pain, this unbearable thirst I have. I know that I want nothing else other than more Game Fuel. "I THIRST FOR GAME FUEL! I MUST EASE THIS PAIN INSIDE ME! I MUST BEAT FUNKY FRESH! I MUST…URINATE!!!!" Through my newfound madness I find I still can't ignore certain calls nature makes. I may want more Game Fuel more than Fred Savage wants a new sitcom but I cannot shake the fact that I downed a bunch of soda earlier this night and it's begging to be released from its nephrologic prison.
10:32 PM
I pull over to the side of the road and start to release like a gallon of Master Chief's special brew. I try to hurry myself but my stream refuses to end, as if powered by a Halo-themed fire hose. As I'm unleashing this Mississippi of soda, I hear something dreadful:
"LOOOOOK at DIS Foool. He can't WAIT to even get back to his Mommy's place to release his beast! And look at that shirt he's wearing! That fool doesn't even know that games have gone THREE DIZZLE!!" Funky Fresh is approaching me on the side of the road with more Game Fuel in his hands. I finally finish my torrent of tangerine tinkle and try to hide the shame I felt that was brought on because of my once-prized rare Neo-Geo Pocket Color promotional shirt.
"I don't even know why I wear this crummy old thang anymo. I mean, sprites are a part of the stone age! They so old, yo momma asked them out on a date! All I want to see is bump-mapping and fully rendered 3-D glory. Gameplay is nothing without the spizzle sparkle!" I say back to my wanksta nemesis for reasons unknown to me.
"Thas right, SON! Pixels are for LAMXORS!"
"What are you doing out here this late on the side of the road, my brothuh? You not schoolin n00bs on teh EX BEE EL?"
"I sold my hooptee fo mo Halo Juice like any real G would. I gots to get Crunk on this JUNK! Plus, I was punkin them fools like yo momma was givin out free lays last night, and I'm not talkin bout bags o' chips, SON! I'm on to somethin much mo betta!"
"Whatchoo got that can beat the crizwizzle of the EX Bizzle?"
"I got somethin real good cookin' at the pad. Mastah CHeeF is about to rock the world in a brand new way. If you can drive me there, I give you a taste. You in?"
I know that anything involving Funky Fresh is a bad idea but he is starting to make more and more sense to me. My urges are taking over minute by minute and I know I just have to see what Funky Fresh has up his sleeve. I'm scared of these cravings, these ravenous compulsions taking over my soul. But I like it…
"Fo sho," I say and we hop into "The Love Machine" as two partners on the way to a country unknown, two men together on an odyssey lit with the blessing of the heavens, extending into eternity….and stuff…
To be concluded…
