It’s weird, but for some inexplicable reason seeing TMBGitW has left me with an almost unbearable ache in my heart, a kind of longing for something I know I can’t have. I don’t know, maybe I’m going nuts…
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Made a cup of Nescafé in the kitchen. One of Rex’s memos was Blue-Tacked to the wall:Unusual Games Ltd.
We Play Further…
_______________________________________Internal Memo: From the Desk of Rex Champion 7/9/88
To: All Employees
_______________________________________
We are not animals, but human beings. Unlike animals, we do not revel in our own slop. Therefore, as a human being and valued member of the Unusual Team, please ensure that this kitchen is left in a state of which your own (human) mothers would be proud.
Thank you.
Rex Champion
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Went out for a solitary fag break and noticed that my smoking fingers are both stained yellow. I really must try and give up. Eventually. Random Thoughts:
- One day computer games will be just like real life, only more so
- Maybe I’m trapped in some kind of totally immersive computer game like the one in Red Dwarf and don’t realise it?
- If I am, indeed, trapped in a totally immersive computer game, it’s a pretty shitty one
- If Rex is a loony, what does that make me?
- Zelda is a crap name for a princess; sounds more like a cleaner
- Link is a crap name for a hero, even an elf hero – makes me think of sausages
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Decided not to go for lunch with Phil, Nathan and especially not with Gaz. Went for a wander down to the Spar and bought a Pot Noodle, a pork pie, a bag of Walkers crisps, a Marathon (‘Internationally known as Snickers’) and a can of Pepsi. On the walk back I determined that I must keep The Right Attitude and make a success of myself at Unusual Games Ltd.
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Gaz is blanking me. I’d just completed a dungeon in The Legend of Zelda and was stretching my legs by walking around the studio. I stopped off at Gaz’s desk and peered over his shoulder at what he was working on. Gaz was flicking a sheet of tracing paper back and forth on his light box so he could see how two frames of the ‘cool’ kid character for Jumpsterz were working out. Like most of the Graphic Artists in the studio, he was listening to his Walkman and I could hear the tinny rage of a thrash metal band coming from his headphones. I tapped his arm and he glanced up momentarily, his eyes tired and red-rimmed, before returning to his tracing paper flicking. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence. I shrugged nonchalantly and went back to my desk. But inside I was all churned up and my ears were burning. I wondered what I’d done to make him act that way. Over at his desk by the window, I noticed Mold glance towards me. Before I could look away, he caught me in his beady gaze. “Can I have a word, Tom?” he asked, a dubious half-smile curling the corners of his thin, cruel mouth.
Jargon Note: In computer game parlance, a dungeon is any game location where various traps and puzzles must be overcome by the player in order to progress further.
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I followed Mold into the Company Boardroom just off Reception. I was really nervous, my head was all hot and my heart was hammering like a bastard. Which annoyed me, because I really shouldn’t be afraid of a little twat like Mold. He sat down at the head of the long boardroom table, leaned forward and steepled his nail-bitten fingers in front of his sneery gob. For comedic effect, I thought about sitting all the way over at the opposite end of the table, but in the end I sat down adjacent to him.
“Is there a problem, Bob?” I asked.
Mold didn’t answer my question, instead he came directly to the point. “You’re currently on a one-month trial period,” he said. “Which means that if you don’t work out, you’ll get your P45. What this really means is, if I, as the Graphical Supervisor, don’t think you’re working out, it’ll be me handing you your P45.” He grinned and I noticed that he had what looked like partially chewed Rice Krispies jammed between his front teeth. “Is that clear, Tom?”
I nodded. “Perfectly, Bob.” And had a momentary fantasy of grabbing his greasy, acne-riddled head and slamming it face-first on to the table.
“Good.” He sat back in his chair, the leatherette seat making a low farting noise. “Now, I’ve spoken to Dick and he agrees with me, so as of today you’ll be working on MonsterTruckz. Dick and I want you to design the splash screen.” I’ve always had a problem with certain people in authority. I hate it when someone who I have no respect for tells me to do something, even if I actually want to do that thing. It was like a small, red cartoon devil had suddenly sprung up on my left shoulder. Go on, urged the little devil, have a bit of fun with this pompous idiot, you know you want to…
“So, you’ve spoken to Dick, then? About this?” I inquired.
“Yes, I’ve spoken to Dick and he agrees with me.”
“He agrees with you about my working on MonsterTruckz?”
“Yes, Dick agrees with me.”
“Good. I’m glad Dick agrees with you.”
“Dick agrees with me.”
I nodded sincerely. “Dick agrees with you about MonsterTruckz.”
“Yes. Dick agrees.” The idiot was so self-involved he was oblivious of the piss-take. I’m sure I could’ve carried it on for much longer without Mold realising what I was doing, but even I was tiring of the silliness.
“Okay, then,” I said. “As long as Dick agrees.”
“Oh, yes, Dick agrees with me.”
“Okay, then.”
Mold stood up. “So, if you speak to Nathan, he’ll sort you out with what you need.”
“Okay, as long as you and Dick agree.”
“Dick and I are in complete agreement.” I started to rise and Mold paused at the door. “Oh, and Tom,” he said, as if what he was about to say was merely an afterthought. I raised my eyebrows expectantly. Mold turned to face me, his sneery smile on his sore-spattered face. “Don’t ever tell me to fuck off or call me a twat again.”
I felt suitably chastised.
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Nathan seemed only too eager to help. He showed me where the stationery cupboard is and the map chest containing the sheets of tracing paper I’ll need. “Best thing is to do a few sketches of the screen first and then run them past Dick for his approval,” Nathan explained, his magnified eyes huge and scary behind his bottle-bottom lenses. “Once you’ve got Dick’s approval, show Mold and when he approves the wrong sketch, which he always does, say something like, ‘Oh, Dick liked this one.’ Then he’ll tell you that, of course, he meant that one, and away you go.” He winked with one huge eye and handed me a fistful of Magic Markers (basically, fancy American felt pens). “Any problems, give me a shout.”I was still concerned about why Gaz had blanked me earlier and I asked Nathan if he thought there was anything I’d done to piss him off. “Well, it could be the fact that you’ve transplanted him as Dick’s favourite,” Nathan suggested. This was news to me and I said so (I didn’t say how gay it sounded, because I wasn’t sure of Nathan’s sexual tendencies and I didn’t want to insult him). “The new boys are always Dick’s favourites,” Nathan explained. “Gaz was the new boy before you arrived and he isn’t anymore, so I guess he’s jealous.” “But, Dick hasn’t shown any particular favouritism to me,” I said. “Well, the rumour is that he has.” “Like what?” “Like he wants you and him to work on Project X together once the barn’s been renovated and fitted.” ><><><
Decided I really must unpack the rest of my stuff and then give the flat a good clean. Another example of The Right Attitude I’m employing in all areas of my life.
Got sidetracked while unpacking my books. Every time I got a book out that I remembered fondly, I ended up reading a chapter or two. After one and a half hours I’d only managed to unpack five books: The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, The Magus by John Fowles, The Dead Zone by Stephen King and Red Dragon by Thomas Harris.
Went out for a pizza and ended up getting fish and chips instead because of the queue at Gino’s. Managed to smoke three Marlboro Lights in the time it took to get back to the flat – a walk of no more than ten minutes. That’s 3.3 (recurring) minutes per cigarette. Might be a world record.
While eating I listened to a compilation cassette entitled ‘Tom’s Faves’. Running order as follows:
1. THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT – The Jam
2. SPANISH BOMBS – The Clash
3. UP THE JUNCTION – Squeeze
4. WISH YOU WERE HERE – Pink Floyd
5. EVERY STEP YOU TAKE – The Police
6. FIVE YEARS – David Bowie
7. LITTLE GREEN – Joni Mitchell
8. BABA O’RILEY – The Who
9. KASHMIR – Led Zeppelin
10. ZADOK the Priest – Handel
11. BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY – Queen
12. HOTEL CALIFORNIA – The Eagles
13. BRASS IN POCKET – The Pretenders
14. PERFECT DAY – Lou Reed
15. THIS CHARMING MAN – The Smiths
16. THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN – Thin Lizzy
17. BROWN EYED GIRL – Van Morrison
18. THE END – The Doors
Halfway through Every Step You Take by The Police, I was blubbing into my fish and chips. The song reminded me of Laura. It was Our Song. With my eyes full of tears, I popped the cassette out of the stereo and chucked it in the bin. Then I went to the fridge, got out four cans of Heineken, switched on the TV and drank myself into a stupor.
