Posts Tagged ‘video game inspired’

Tomas and I frantically assembled our defense turrets before the next Alien Swarm could arrive.  His sentry gun was nearly complete, but my missile turret was taking longer than expected.  The metal grating beneath our feet began to move and a large trap door in the factory floor split open to make way for a rising platform.

Two sentient robot cars emerged from the darkness below.  Tomas and I knew this was our only chance, and we each jumped onto a car.  I positioned myself on the roof of the blue Dodge Challenger as quickly as I could, tucking my legs  into the open windows on either side.  Just as I was seated, the car peeled out with a roar of acceleration.  Tires screeched and the car blasted out of the factory into a dirt field, hurling dry soil and clods of grass into the air behind us.

Tomas’ car wasn’t far behind and the two machines began weaving in and out of each others path, tearing through the countryside in a playful game of chase.  We blew passed my parents’ house in Cottonwood and I leaned to the left, guiding the car in a tight turn that tossed a wave of gravel in our wake.  I underestimated the car’s path and found myself in a collision course with a white wooden fence.

I closed my eyes and the car smashed through, hitting a dip in the ground and pitching up sideways.  Throwing my arms out to the side I ditched, leaving the car to tumble sideways and roll over and over in a chaotic crash of sheering metal and broken glass.

I picked myself up off the ground, brushing dirt from my clothes and hair.  A shadow fell across the ground in front of me and I turned to see MC Hammer.

“You’re in trouble now!” he said. “I told you not to be messin’ with my cars.  Now you’re grounded.  No going to the docks for you!”

I hung my head in disappointment and shame.


As a grizzled veteran soldier of the BLU team, I knew the coming fight would be gritty and intense.  My rocket launcher pressed down heavily upon my shoulder.  I felt behind my back for my Buff Banner and deployed it to flap in the breeze.  The sound of my battle horn echoed off the concrete walls of the RED team’s base and the steel mesh gates before me opened.

I made my way through the narrow corridors, keeping a watchful eye for signs of any RED contact.  The hall widened out into a courtyard bordered on one side by a raised concrete platform glowing RED.  Lining the walls above the platform were several levels of metal catwalks, each packed with various types of equipment.  I spotted two automated sentry guns assembling themselves and counted myself lucky they weren’t ready to fire yet.

Most of the rest of the equipment on the catwalks were amps, speakers, and other audio devices.  Aerosmith assaulted my ears from the amps.  I grimaced.  Mr. Palamino, my high school councilor stood behind me.

“You’ve got to shoot those amps!” he yelled.

I raised my rocket launcher and took aim.  With a squeeze of the trigger a large yellow plastic rocket shot forth on compressed air, slamming into the amp and nearly sending it toppling off the catwalk.  Upon impact the music changed.

“Yeah!” Palamino exclaimed.  “Do it again!”

I fired again, but this time the rocket sailed low, bouncing back off the bottom of the catwalk and sailing back down towards us.  Mr. Palamino tried to avoid it but the rocket struck him hard in the chest, sending him reeling backwards to strike his back into a low concrete wall.

He cried out in pain, “Fuck!”