Posted by on May 2, 2017 in Articles

I’ll set the scene. It’s a familiar one. One we’ve all been in numerous times. Lines. We all hate waiting in lines, yet they’re everywhere. I have a theory that once you enter the line, time slows down quite a bit. How much? Well it depends on external factors such as if you’ve got to use the restroom, are sick, have a cranky child, someone else in line has a cranky child, number of items in your purchase, etc.

So there I was, waiting in a pharmacy line to pick up some much needed medication for a sinus infection. I’m already aggravated over the fact that it’s ridiculous you have to jump through hoops to purchase a single box of medication because there are some assholes out there making meth-cakes out in some podunk bathroom in a trailer park with a used oar and car batteries bought “at discount” from the back of a truck.

The line is moving excruciatingly slow as you have THAT ONE ASSHOLE who has to try and chat up the cute cashier/pharmacy tech and is about as close to getting her number as I am curing the Herpes Hybrid I’ve unwittingly unleashed on the world like the next T-Virus. Like most, I decide to kill time while the 3 people in front of me plus the 1 at the counter do their stupid by sticking my nose into my phone and cruising Facebook and torturing my friends with my updates about being in a line.

I look up because the line hasn’t moved in five minutes and I’m wondering how I’m going to stuff 5 bodies into the trunk of my car while avoiding suspicion. I’ve come up with a plan that involves a shopping cart, air freshener and maybe some baby powder (don’t ask), when I realize…Five.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Five.

FUCKING FIVE!?

A quick inventory of memories helps identify the jackass directly in front of me. He is further given away by the fact that he is going well out of his way to not make eye contact and ignore anything from my general direction.

Without thinking too much into it, I decide to start a scene. A scene in a very different way than the one you’re imagining more than likely. Talk to the guy? Why? He’s just going to make excuses, argue and refuse to move. No…he has slapped me in the face with the glove of self-worth. No. Talking will not solve anything.

C:\>run modechange.exe -b
C:\> Welcome to Mode Change!
C:\> Bastard Mode Change Initiated
C:\> Bastard Mode: ON

I quickly jumped back onto my phone and fired up a Trials type clone and pushed the volume all the way up. No, he robbed me of my place in line now I shall erode his sanity via a digital means.

Now if you’re unfamiliar with Trials and it’s clones, it is a motorcross type obstacle course. Complete with physics and more importantly…dirt bike type noises. Which come greatly into play in this particular scenario.

Now, I’m not sure about you, but how long could you stand the constant virtual whine of a 2 cycle engine at full volume? Especially since some bastard happened to hold the thing up at an awkward angle about nose height and just out about a foot away from his general hearing direction.

Being an 80’s kid and the days of the good ol’ blow and click NES carts, I know how jerking the controller and swaying with the motions can really affect game play. Okay…not really but I’ll be fucked in the armpit by a pineapple’s penis if I didn’t use that justification to swing wildly around while cursing about and generally making a big scene.

This is where the theory of how time slows while waiting in line applies. In fact, it runs backwards at this point for him. As he shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably he still refused to make eye contact or even acknowledge my existence. So I decided to up the game and I took a step closer and continued his slow descent into madness.

After this particular movement I noticed that he started to develop some sort of eye twitch and was really in dire need to say something but being that he was playing the role of entitled jerk and cut in line, I already knew that he wouldn’t. His fidgeting started getting more and more frantic, letting me know I had him on the ropes.

Now, just to work on the edging.

Perfect! Exploding barrels. A quick press back and my character decided to do a backflip and land head first onto them. The resulting explosion of barrels not only caused trauma to my score but probably also to his nerves and even his ear drums. Such a shame really. He should be more careful when going out in public. I’d suggest a good quality set of earplugs but I’m afraid it’s difficult to hear over the whine of a two cycle engine.

With that…he decided he left his douchebag fermenting too long in the sun and made haste toward the exit.

I win.

I always win.

Always.

Why? Because I’m in a fuck deficit and if you’re rude enough to cut in front of me then you’re signing your permission slip to get on the short bus for the field trip to Dr. Bastard’s Lab. Our current experiments involve how to get the most out of annoying people with the least bit of fucks given.

Plus it helps if you don’t have any dignity.