But then the time has come for me to go home and I was all small and weak again. Didn’t even make it through the first level-but man, what a game! All of a sudden I wasn’t that small and weak little kid anymore, I was this cool elite soldier and it felt fricking good. It was called Metal Slug 6 and I sucked a big deal at playing it at first. But it sure wasn’t nowhere near scary enough to stop me from getting my own console, not when my friend Jim got his own one and played all sorts of games on it. a big dog, and he’d always keep barking and growling at me, with those beast brown eyes just piercing right through me like a pair of sick cold knives, and it would always scare the shit out of me. And let me, it wasn’t always all fun and games, you know? Smiths, our neighbours, they had this big son-of-a… eh. And so I took a job as a delivery boy, and worked my back (and legs) for whole six months, only to raise me some money for my own fricking Playstation. But my parents had told me it was a dumb and useless thing to have, and should I want to own such a dumb and useless thing anyway, I ought to work for it myself. I lived in a small rural town and I dreamed of having my own Playstation 2.
