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I'm A Warrior (485 hits)

Category: UberMadness! Entry
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Submitted by AJ <uberaj.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-10-24 23:36:56 EDT

This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.

Jerry Stevens signed onto his computer at 7 PM, having finished his homework and done all his chores, it was time to sit down to play his favorite game, "Battle Realm." Battle Realm was an online strategy game that Jerry's mother had bought him shortly after she left him and his father. Like most 12-year-old boys, Jerry was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he played the game frequently, despite his father's allegations that his mother was trying to buy his affection.

'You are now logged in as 'SpawnofRoland.'

Jerry was a Level 25 Norse Warrior. He was one of the first few thousand people to give the game a shot, and as such had developed his skills and his character's attributes. He took the time to labor over every detail, no matter how minute. If there was a piece of armor dented, he would have it fixed. He carefully arranged his items in the queue so that they were easy to find in a pinch. A place for everything and everything in its place.

He lived for Battle Realm, and all his friends played it. He talked about it non-stop. It was what kept him excited. He hated school, but he drudged through it anyway, knowing full well that his father would look for any excuse to get rid of the game. Neither parent liked it when the other gave him something he wanted. It was a constant game of one-upmanship. Not that Jerry minded, truth be told.

Jerry lived with his dad, but he still saw his mom at random intervals of time. She would usually show up at the door or leave a phone message, apologizing for not calling sooner, but having an excuse for it all. When Jerry did see her she always had some sort of present for him, so he didn't care what the excuse was.

Jerry looked up at the monitor to see this message: 'Dantheman00' has joined your party.

"Awesome!"

SpawnofRoland: Hey Danny, are you ready to look at that cave in D-178 tonight?

Dantheman00: Yeah, but I'm not going to be able to play tonight, I've got stuff I've gotta do. Plus my mage needs to store up his mana for when we get into another scrum.

SpawnofRoland: What kind of stuff?

Dantheman00: I'm going to the mall. I've gotta go shopping.

SpawnofRoland: Oh, okay. Can I come?

Dantheman00: Not this time, Jerry. I'm meeting with people for a school project.

SpawnofRoland: Okay... well, I guess we can check out that cave tomorrow. See ya.

'Dantheman00' has left your party.

Jerry thought it was a little bit odd that Danny wasn't going to play- they'd done so every night for the past four or five months. He shrugged it off and set about to conquer the realm on his own, but it just wasn't the same without a partner. He had to run from three level 5 Druids that he and Dan would've made mincemeat out of had they been playing together. Magic and brute force, they were a perfect combination. He found himself not wanting to play for the first time since- well, since ever.

He logged out of the system and headed downstairs where his dad was watching football, or baseball, or something. Officer Stevens of Chicago PD always liked to unwind after a shift by watching sports of some kind, with a beer, non-light of some kind. Jerry really didn't like sports, so he just usually nodded in agreement while people talked about them and waited for the subject to change.

"Hey dad, whatcha watching?"

"Hockey."

"Who's winning?"

"The fucking Blues. I'm afraid the Blackhawks aren't going to put together another playoff run before the world ends or the league folds. Bunch of fuckin' bums. I'd like to kick Daze's ass. Fucking pansy."

"Yeah... mind if I watch with you?"

His father perked up to attention. He looked at his watch.

"Don't you usually play with your little dragon guy at this time?"

Jerry rolled his eyes. "No, dad, he's a Level 25 Norse Warrior. Geez."

"Oh, right. How could I forget? Why aren't you and Danny playing?"

"He went to the mall to do something. It's just not as much fun without him."

"Oh. Well sure, sit down right here."

Jerry sat next to his dad and watched the game. It felt good. He couldn't see where the ball was half the time, but it was still great spending time with his dad.

"What's the score?"

"3-0, St. Louis. I swear to God, Daze, if you lose the puck in the neutral zone one more fucking time I'm going to gut you like a fish!"

Jerry looked at him, a little bit disturbed.

"Oh, sorry, buddy. I just get a little excited when I watch hockey."

"What quarter is it?"

Jerry's dad looked at him, with a look that was half-bewildered, half-ashamed.

"Jerry, they don't play quarters, they play periods. Three of 'em. It's the second."

"Oh." After a long silence, Jerry spoke. "I'm going to get a soda," Jerry said as he stood up.

"Hey, while you're up, you want to be a good little Level 15 Soldier and get Daddy a beer?" he said as he shook his empty Old Style at him.

"Sure dad."

"Thanks. Oh, and could you try not to stand in front of the TV?"

The next day, Jerry walked to school with Danny, as was their custom. Jerry talked about watching hockey with his dad, a refreshing change from talking about Battle Realm all the time. Usually Danny would interject with comments of his own, but on this particular day, he was silent.

"Daze's such a fucking pussy, you know? Hey, Danny, what's wrong?"

"Look, Jerry, I have something I gotta talk to you about."

"Is this about me using your Stamina potion the other night? I'll pay you one back."

"No, Jerry, this is important."

"Battle Realm is important."

"Battle Realm isn't real life, Jerry!" he screamed.

"What's wrong, Danny?" Jerry said as he cringed away from his friend a little bit.

"Look, Jerry. We're 12 now, almost teenagers! Isn't it time to stop playing little kid games and start doing stuff in the real world? You know, girls, sports, things like that? Don't you ever want to grow up?"

"Well, life is like a leveling up system. You may be ready to become an adult, but I'm not ready to level-up yet. I like being a kid, Danny. Why rush things?"

"Could you stop talking about that fucking game? Jesus. Look, Jerry, I don't think we can be friends anymore. You obviously don't care about anything other than Battle Realm, and I'm ready to move on. It's just a stupid game; it doesn't get you anything in real life!"

Jerry felt tears well up in his eyes as Danny increased his pace. "Oh well," he thought. "Let him go. There are other mages out there. Don't cry. You're a warrior, Jerry. Warriors don't cry."

The days went by, and Jerry and Danny became more and more distant. Jerry's status in Battle Realm fell, as he didn't have Danny's mage to back him up. Jerry became more and more disenfranchised with his life. In Battle Realm, he could be anything he wanted to be, with Danny right there at his side. In real life, Danny hated him and he didn't have any friends to help him. His dad was always busy with work, so he was left with nothing to do. One day his boredom took him to the park a few blocks away from school.

He sat on a swing; just letting his feet dangle off the ground, easing back and forth ever-so-slightly with the wind. He let the sun his face as he closed his eyes, and let the wind ruffle his hair. He felt the warmth of the sun get interrupted, and he opened one eye to see what was going on. One of the boys from his class was standing over him.

"Hey, nerd linger. Whatcha doing?"

"Umm... my name's Jerry, Trevor. And I'm sitting here."

"Hey, don't sass me, poindexter. Your little army of dwarves isn't here to help you."

Jerry heard laughter from behind Trevor, and saw Danny and a few other boys standing a few feet away.

"I don't have an army of dwarves, Trevor. I'm a Level 25 Norse Warrior."

"Oh, la-dee-da, Mr. Fancypants," Trevor said as he pranced around, flailing his arms in a most comical fashion. "Excuse me for insulting the great Dork Warrior."

"NORSE Warrior."

"Look, geek, I told you not to talk back to me."

Trevor advanced toward him.

"Trevor, you better not do anything. I'll tell my dad.'

"Ooh, listen to the baby; he's going to tell his cop daddy. Why don't you run home and cry to mommy? Oh, that's right, she left you."

"You shut up you... you... fucklawn."

"Fucklawn? Did you just call me a fucklawn?"

"You heard me." Jerry said, resolute in trying to sound confident. It came out squeaky and cracked, but it still came out.

Trevor gave him "the look" and Jerry knew he had made a mistake. Trevor shoved Jerry as hard as he could, sending him backwards out of the swing, his legs catching on the seat as he hit the ground on his back. Jerry rolled backward and started crying. He swung at Trevor, and missed completely. The next thing Jerry knew, he was being pushed around the circle of boys as Trevor pummeled him. Each of them took a potshot, even Danny. As he lay on the dirt, his shirt torn, his nose bloody, and his ribs sore, Jerry couldn't help but let a tear slip down his cheeks. "It's okay, Jerry. Even warriors feel pain," he told himself.

As the days went on, Jerry played Battle Realm even less, but still kept up with it when it was raining or there was nothing to do. He spent more and more time with his dad. One day, he asked Officer Stevens a question that many youths ask their fathers.

"Dad, will you teach me how to fight?"

His father looked at him with uncertainty.

"And why would you want to do that Jerry?"

"Well, there're these kids at school..."

"Who? What are their names? You tell me, and I'll take care of it."

"No! If I do that they'll just beat me up more. You can't say anything. Please!"

His father sighed and beckoned him to sit down.

"Let me tell you something, Jerry. If you fight those boys, you're just as bad as they are. Part of being a good warrior is knowing when to fight and when not to, right? Discretion is the better part of valor. If you fight those boys, they're just going to retaliate, and you're going to be back in the same position. If they give you any trouble, just walk away. Don't say anything to them. Walk away, Jerry."

"But..."

"Please, Jerry, just give it a shot."

The next day after school, Jerry saw Trevor and his gang across the street. He put his head down and walked briskly, hoping they wouldn't notice him. He couldn't be so lucky. As soon as he headed down the alley on Parks St. (a shortcut home) they spotted him and gave chase.

"Hey, Elf-boy!"

Jerry ran as fast as he could, trying to evade his pursuers and get home. He looked back to see how far ahead he was when he tripped over a wooden crate at the service entrance to Ginsby's Grocery Store. He sprawled out across the asphalt, cutting his hands and scraping his nose. He tried to get back up again, but they were on him quickly.

It was the coldest walk home of Jerry's life. They'd taken his pants, and more importantly, his pride. As Trevor and Danny taunted him, playing keep-away with his pants, he resigned himself to the walk of shame he would have to endure. When he got home, his dad was cooking supper. He looked at him with tears in his eyes, and walked up the stairs to go to sleep. When his father came to talk to him, he pretended to be asleep. It was less embarrassing that way. It couldn't go on like this. "Time's come, Jerry," he told himself. "Are you a warrior or aren't you?"

The next day, Jerry went to school as normal. When he walked home, he headed up the alley to see Danny, Trevor, and their band of hoodlums leaning against the back wall of Ginsby's.

"Well look who it is."

"Hello, Trevor. Danny."

"Come back for more, wuss?"

"No, Danny, I've just come to let you know that I'm not going to take this anymore. It's over."

Trevor started to do his arms-flailing comical dance once more. "Oh, the little hobbit is going to hurt us. He's not going to take it anymore."

"What are you going to do, Jerry?" Danny asked. "You're a weenie. I only hung out with you because I felt sorry for you. You're not going to do anything, weenie-boy."

"I'm not a weenie," Jerry said, as he reached into his backpack and procured his dad's service pistol. "I'm a warrior."

warrior.jpg (15 kB)

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Submitted by Method (user info) at 2006-03-08 09:44:12 EST (#)
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