Saturday, June 6, 2009

Chapter One - Part 1


My earliest memories were staring at a 42” flat screen; box at feet, controller in hand. Cocooned in bland painted white walls, polished grey concrete under foot, stainless steel fixtures reflecting the sick green glare of overhead fluorescents.

And, like the others I came up with, we’re the only clan we've ever known, and all we ever wanted was to be Grinders... the guys in the controler suits grinding it out day after day. From what I heard we got the term grinder, from the poker world, the professionals, doing it every day.

There might have been a few exceptions. Every now, and again, you get a Gamer who’s overheard another Gamer reporting some vague memory of a nurturing face, of hugs and kisses. Me? I think it’s probably just urb legend generated by some sadistic Flusher yanking chains. I've never met anyone with a memory like that.

Yeah. Flushers. These guys can make or break a career in Gaming, acting as liaisons between GM (Game Masters) and Grind Controllers then down to the Grinders. Now, that’s a department I’m glad I dodged. Once a Flusher, always a Flusher. I'd much rather be flushed. If you can get past those GM potlickers you can advance. But… you gotta get past ‘em.

At six years old, I was one of the youngest Boots to get upgraded from boot camp to tenth dimension Grinder. My strategies have always been solid and, inside the Grind Suit, I get EXP (experience points) and my DPS (damage per second) in the top 5 percent, with great stats on my need to spawn.

But, sooner or later - everybody’s skills start the lag. I used to hope, my ability for Strategy and Maneuvers would get me into GM, so I wouldn’t get kicked to sweeping floors and cleaning toilets in some IT department.

As it turns out, it’s my potential in Strategy conception that’s got me into this pickle.

An old Flusher – one I've known since my first upgrade – was the first to leak insinuations about the Games.

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