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Gamers. What really is a ‘gamer’?
That was what The Irishman happened to be contemplating on this beautiful, poorly lit day. If you’re wondering, no, I don’t know why the sun is poorly lit today.
Anyway, needing help for this, The Irishman did the first thing that came to his mind: throwing a pipe at the nearest person.
“Ow!”, complained Caine, “What are you doing?!”
“What do you mean?”, answered The Irishman, “That’s a perfectly normal way of getting attention.”
Taking back his pipe, The Irishman continued, “I need help figuring out gamers. Surely you must know something?”
“Haha, well I do know quite a lot indeed.”
“Great, so what can you tell me?”
“About what?”
“Gamers.”
“Oh that? Nothing. Though I bet I could find someone who can!”
Caine proceeded to do the first thing that came to his mind: shoving the nearest bystander into his mouth.
“AHHH!”, screamed Quentin Beck, “What are you doing?!”
“What do you mean?”, answered Caine, “That’s a perfectly normal way of getting attention.”
Gently putting him down, Caine continued, “So Quentin, you look like a gamer, so you should be able to explain gaming to us.”
Dusting himself off, Quentin responded, “I am indeed a gamer, but you better refer to me by my gamernym.”
“And what would that be?”, asked The Irishman.
“Quenton.”
“How unique...”
“Also, I won’t do this for free.”
“But I have no money,” explained The Irishman, “I spent it all on Granny’s Peach Tea.”
“Hmm,” contemplated Quenton, “I suppose you could instead get the word out for my new island.”
“Sounds great!”, cheered The Irishman, “Thankfully, I happen to have a good degree in the best English. I won’t let ya down!”
Caine felt that The Irishman was lying, but didn’t bother speaking up, being too distracted by the ethics of shipping C.C. from Code Geass with a physical copy of Super Paper Mario. He wasn’t sure where he should insert the disc.
After convincing Caine to teleport them, as Quenton was apparently worried about whistleblowers, the three of them managed to make it to the island.
“Wowwee!”, exclaimed Caine, “This island has pavement! And even a grassy field!”
“That’s right,” said Quenton, “We’ve even got a shop full of gamer products.”
“Oh so this is a business?”, pondered The Irishman.
“Yup,” Quenton explained, “I call it: Quinton Island”
“You sure are good at coming up with names.”
“Anyway, let me show you what a video game is.”
Quenton walked them over to a TV with controllers, handing one to each.
“I actually developed this game myself,” Quenton noted proudly.
“Really?”, said Caine as the game booted up, “What’d you use to make it?”
Quenton cheerfully answered, “paper towels, stop signs, garbage, and ass.”
The title screen displayed the words “Super Smash Bros. Melee”. Then the game exploded. Literally, the three ‘gamers’ had to jump in the ocean to put out the fire.
“I’m not sure I get it,” reviewed The Irishman, “First-degree burns seem like too much trouble to be a ‘gamer’.”
“Maybe we need something you’re familiar with,” Quenton said, “What do you usually do?”
The Irishman replied, “I paint houses.”
Nodding, Quenton pulled out a new game, “Try this.” The title said “Powerwash Simulator”.
Playing through it, Caine wondered, “Does this really have anything to do with painting houses?”
“Oh it does,” smiled The Irishman deviously, “I would know.”
Bored of this, Caine left him as he enjoyed the game alone. Going to Quenton, who was fiddling with a drone at the moment, Caine draped his arm around him.
“Well Quenton, your island seems at least somewhat decent.”
“Thanks Caine, that really means a lot.”
“No prob, dude.”
“Yeah, I mean, I got really worried when you got that bored look on your face.”
“Oh that? Well that’s just because I don’t even like video games. I just wanted to help that weird ‘kino’ guy. I’m sure it’ll do great with usual gamers though.”
“It sure will. I mean, it’s gotta, right? After all, I’m counting on this for my own survival. I haven’t felt the same after Spider-Man killed me, and I somehow came back because of you, Caine. Yet that’s just made me feel existential. What do I have left to do now? Becoming a gamer? Or is this really just a fate worse than death? For your mind to continue on indefinitely as you keep questioning what you could’ve done differently. What even is this?! WHY AM I HERE?!”
Caine processed this for a cycle, “I suppose it’s as you said. You’re a gamer.”
Quentin Beck pulled out a pistol, but Caine had already teleported away. Looking back at Quinton Island, Quentin dropped to the ground, crying in a heap.
The Irishman walked up to him, satisfied with his ‘gaming’.
“That was great! I think I might see what’s up with these ‘gamers’.”
Quentin Beck continued crying.
“Hmm, I suppose I will need some sort of hook to get the word out for this, uh, Quinton Island.”
Quentin Beck continued crying.
“Ah, I know. That shop of yours has tons of gamer products, right? I bet a long line of people would be excited to buy it all up to resell at exorbitant markups.”
Quentin Beck continued crying.
“lol,” The Irishman said, “lmao.”