31 May 2024
1117
R. Linda:
Aren't these new online games wonderful? You can play anytime with someone or someone from around the world. It's a long way from Pac-man and PlayStation 1, I can tell you that much. Me boyos have been at these games for years. This is all new to yours truly. I've heard of these games and watched the wee one build things using his Minecraft proggie, but Fortnite is a whole new ballgame.
Cousin Sean is a veteran player of Fortnite, and there have been nights I've seen him and O'Hare at their controls yelling, cursing like troopers, and having what looks like a good time despite themselves. At other times, they laugh their fool heads off. I got the impression there was a bit of violence in this game. Of course, the quite audible pow-pow-pow was also a hint, along with the sounds of explosions.
Now, Guido is the one who brought my attention to Fortnite. The middle son has adopted the f-word as his favourite and peppers his speech with it, much to the horror of his Gran. She has politely asked him, "Please ta not use dat werd when speakin' ta me." He tries but is so used to using it that he can't help himself. Then his mother gets on him, and they argue, and well, the f-word abounds it does.
We can all be down in the living room watching the telly with the sound turned up (Mam is losing hearing), and up above us, we can hear the anger and f-word bombs being tossed at whoever is on the other end of Guido's gaming controls, usually in a different country.
"He needs to be stopped," Mam announced, getting up and turning the sound down. "Jus' listen ta 'em."
With the sound down, we could hear things like" "You rotten f-ing son of a bitch, what is wrong with you?" and "I said grab those guns and what the f did you do? Are you stupid?!" and "You're such a f-ing loser!" All screamed at the top of his lungs in an angry voice.
I went upstairs and walked into this tirade.
"Who are you shouting obscenities at?" I asked.
"Sean, that's who," Guido answered.
"Me cousin?" I asked in disbelief. "Anyone else?"
"Yeah, Aunt Sheila, she's ruining everything. I told her to watch out, and she keeps getting killed because she doesn't f-ing listen."
I stood there horrified that me own kiddo was cursing at his aunt, me sissy. Sean, well, who cares -- but Sheila?
I needn't have worried because her voice came over with a bucket full of obscenities directed at Guido for not paying attention. I found out they all rage at each other, and no offence is taken. Try explaining this to two educated women who are examples of manners and politeness. It didn't wash. Mam was all for looking up an anger control class for Guido, and when she found out her own daughter was a culprit, she started to look up one for her, too, over in Ireland. Sean, she didn't care, "'Eees an 'opless case 'ee iz."
Between Tonya and I, we had somewhat turned down the volume, so to speak, with Guido, though it didn't last long. I was interested in how this game was played and why the rage level was ultra-high.
I sat down one evening with the eldest, O'Hare. He offered to show me a game and handed me a headset and controller. Then he went through a bunch of character disguises. I could choose one, but then Sean returned and announced they were all (Sean, Sheila, and Guido) teaming up as Team Banana. Mystified, I watched as O'Hare flipped through the online banana costumes.
Once my character was dressed as a banana, I stood in a small spotlight as the others appeared on the screen. I found me banana character doing the Macarena, then Gangnam Style dances as we waited to be activated. Once we were placed with other players, my banana character stood next to a rather aggressive chickie, and I found Guido and me dancing around her. She looked uncomfortable, but the game hadn't started so . . .
As O'Hare was explaining the game controller to me, Sheila started whining.
"I don't wont to be a bonona," She said, signing off in a huff. I was amazed she'd get so worked up and leave just for that.
"We were willing to give her the Peely Banana name." A deflated Sean sighed.
I was dropped into the game, me online persona, a banana with an automatic rifle, was named Potassius Peels. I was told to shoot anything that moved that wasn't dressed as a banana. I was also told (since I had made my way to an arsenal of guns) to collect them. Since I was on the outskirts of the "action", I was then directed to build a shelter to house the weapons and mainly to avoid the Storm that damages all players outside the safe zone, which is where I was! Who knew!
Meanwhile, my teammate Bananas explored the "island" and engaged in combat. I had the shelter built and guns inside, and then I was told by Sean, AKA Adventure Peely Banana (he made a pretty girl banana if not for the fat side), to watch out for an armed fish headed my way. There was another team of battle fish that were out to get us bananas. It sounds bananas, I know. I was making my way with a few guns towards the safe zone or trying to anyway when this fish came out of nowhere and nearly peeled me to the ground. But Sean, Adventure Peely Banana, put him down. The fish was incapacitated and started moving off on hands and knees, or fins, but the bananas got hold of him and dragged him to the golf cart that Sean and O'Hare, AKA Agent Peely, had absconded with from somewhere. They threw the fish in the back and drove him around with them and me as we picked up Guido, AKA Lil Split Banana, who was fending off more fish behind a rock and cursing his fool head off in the process. He jumped in as we covered him, shooting at the fish and got a few as we headed off to the bluffs. There, the captured fish was thrown off into the sea. "What a way to go!" Sean exploded with joy.
"Uh, no, he can swim," I pointed out to the deflated Sean Adventure Peely.
Somehow, I found meself out of the cart and in the hills of Brutal Beach. I was warned several times by me teammates that there were enemies on my left or right, and I'd take aim and shoot, and I got most of them dead. A few crawled off, but I wasn't wasting time with those. However, if Sean saw one, he would end that player. He's savage, I tell ya.
At one point, I found meself in a melee where Sean and I were fending several other teams off. With so much going on and all the shooting, I ran for what looked like a Mad Max spiked-up go-cart and jumped in but missed the driver's side and found meself in the backseat with some other player at the wheel. The guy didn't know what to do with me in the backseat, and we drove around. We were hit by another vehicle, and the other fell out. I don't know where he went, but I fended off more baddies and seeing the same vehicle was righted, I made for it again, only this time I found meself in the backseat surrounded by another team that had also jumped in. Once again, I was driven around, and no one, including meself, knew what to do. But after a ride over the beach and up into the hills, one of them decided I needed to die, so that was it. Killed in the backseat of a go-cart! I tell ya.
I played seven games. That's all I was good for. I was getting the hang of it, but it was getting repetitive. I went off to bed, leaving O'Hare and the rest to continue on. I dreamt of bananas running around different places all night with guns, and I have to tell ya, I got little sleep. I wonder how people play this every day, and every waking hour they get the chance.
Gabe
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