It's amazing the depths of depravity you can explore with a humble PS2 fishing controller
They weren't kidding when they told me that life would move fast in college. Why, it was only a week ago that those Koreans sent me a PS2 fishing controller by mistake, and just this past weekend that I got creamed during a tourney at the hospital. Little did I know that my involvement with the Koreans was far from over.
The note should've tipped me off that trouble was ahead. I guess that crazy foreign mail-order place figured out their mistake and sent me a postcard of warning. On the front it had a picture of a monkey with a parrot on his head. On the back was the following hurriedly scrawled message: "Attention, we will be extensive please! Being and being incorrect the controller whom it sends be. The all thing bad person is going now from afterwords you!"
I wasn't sure what to do about that, so I continued with my daily regimen of Virtua Fighter 4 practice. Not only did I set up the controller to sidestep and uppercut with a flick of the wrist, I also figured out a way to drop into the flamingo stance just by tilting the controller down. I wasn't just a badass when it came to the arena... The fact is, a man who has a firm grip and tight control of his rod is also a hit with the hoochies.
Then last night there was a heavy knock on my door. The men who proceeded to bust uninvited into my room spoke hardly a word of English, but their body language said it all. Well, that, and the too-small dark suits, sunglasses, black gloves, and crud-encrusted baseball bats. They closed the door behind them and slammed the bats into their gloved fists menacingly. They didn't need to hand me a business card for me to figure out the deal: This was the Korean Mafia.
One of them spoke in guttural tones, then made the gesture of a fishing controller. The other one snarled at me with missing teeth. I held up the fishing controller and pointed to the TV, where Virtua Fighter 4 raged on, oblivious to the conflict. The two men looked at one another, confused. I pointed to the controller and then pronounced "Vir-tu-a Figh-ter!" Slowly it dawned on them that I was using the experimental and illegally imported controller to play a fighting game. One of the men screamed, in english, "That BALLS crazy!"
So of course they wanted to play me. I guess it must've been pretty impressive, they kept fighting over who got to play me next and game after game I kept beating their asses down, no matter what character they fought me with. Before long they were laughing and patting me on the back all friendly-like. The one guy even put a bandana around my head.
They let me keep the controller. In fact, before they left, they gave me a handful of gold fillings, keys to a black Daewoo sedan, and my very own machette. I'd have to say, of all the mafias in the world, the Koreans are way underrated.
Funny how many cops tail me when I'm in the Daewoo, though.
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