No, wait. It's the beginning of a new world, and you have been given quite an honor. This time, instead of being one of the regular souls that are constantly being born, dying and being reborn again (to what purpose no one can remember), you have been chosen to be the God of Video Games. Other souls laughed at this and commented that it would take billions of years of evolution and technical advancements before the first video game was created and that by then everyone would laugh at the notion of a God of Video Games.
Whatever. They are just jealous.
You go back to your hovel, appropriate to your success in the last world, and sit on the bare floor (you lost all your possessions in a bad bet about how the last world would end) and begin to wait, declaring your intention to enjoy the next 6 billion years. You wonder what the God of Video Games would do in this situation, and it quickly becomes clear to you: cheese.
You played a lot of games during your years collecting disability for a big toe problem. They hardly paid you anything, and you could only afford one old game every couple of months or so, but it was better than working. During this time, call it kismet if you like, although I have no idea what that means, you played a number of god games. It was your favorite genre. "And they said games were a waste of time," you chuckle, thinking how stupid everyone was. You use your god powers to open up into thin air the GUI for the new world, which is only available to gods like yourself, and you adjust the rate of DNA mutations by X 100,000. It's going to be Darwin supercharged, you think, marveling at your own genius.
It's the end of the world. Some idiot cranked up DNA mutations so high that life forms quickly ran out of mates and died off. What you are most upset about is that you aren't guaranteed the God of Video Games job that you had last time despite having done an overall good job of it except for a simple mistake anyone could have made. You are determined to prove yourself worthy of continued god-hood. For the God of Games, it would make sense to show them one of your YouTube videos (19 subscribers) of the game you are best at. Surely that eternal middle manager Zeus would be impressed and toss his support behind you. Now all you have to do is think of all the games you've played and determine which one you were best at.
You feel empowered. You are still technically a god and that's not going to change.
"I am the one who knocks," you say ominously, quoting a television show that you only know about through memes. You aren't sure what the quote means or how it applies to your current situation, but it sounds like something awesome a god would say in a blockbuster movie right before he starts kicking some righteous arse. You say it several more times, trying different inflections. Yes, truly, you are the one who knocks.
You pick the game you were most beast at. Even pro players would have struggled to defeat you. You manifest a flash drive with your gameplay on it and set off to show Zeus.
What game is on the flash drive?
ps. I have more time this morning if you would like me to write some more words.
Whatever. They are just jealous.
You go back to your hovel, appropriate to your success in the last world, and sit on the bare floor (you lost all your possessions in a bad bet about how the last world would end) and begin to wait, declaring your intention to enjoy the next 6 billion years. You wonder what the God of Video Games would do in this situation, and it quickly becomes clear to you: cheese.
You played a lot of games during your years collecting disability for a big toe problem. They hardly paid you anything, and you could only afford one old game every couple of months or so, but it was better than working. During this time, call it kismet if you like, although I have no idea what that means, you played a number of god games. It was your favorite genre. "And they said games were a waste of time," you chuckle, thinking how stupid everyone was. You use your god powers to open up into thin air the GUI for the new world, which is only available to gods like yourself, and you adjust the rate of DNA mutations by X 100,000. It's going to be Darwin supercharged, you think, marveling at your own genius.
It's the end of the world. Some idiot cranked up DNA mutations so high that life forms quickly ran out of mates and died off. What you are most upset about is that you aren't guaranteed the God of Video Games job that you had last time despite having done an overall good job of it except for a simple mistake anyone could have made. You are determined to prove yourself worthy of continued god-hood. For the God of Games, it would make sense to show them one of your YouTube videos (19 subscribers) of the game you are best at. Surely that eternal middle manager Zeus would be impressed and toss his support behind you. Now all you have to do is think of all the games you've played and determine which one you were best at.
You feel empowered. You are still technically a god and that's not going to change.
"I am the one who knocks," you say ominously, quoting a television show that you only know about through memes. You aren't sure what the quote means or how it applies to your current situation, but it sounds like something awesome a god would say in a blockbuster movie right before he starts kicking some righteous arse. You say it several more times, trying different inflections. Yes, truly, you are the one who knocks.
You pick the game you were most beast at. Even pro players would have struggled to defeat you. You manifest a flash drive with your gameplay on it and set off to show Zeus.
What game is on the flash drive?
ps. I have more time this morning if you would like me to write some more words.
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