“Your choices are going to affect how this game progresses.” Zombies with words floating above their heads remained stationary, videogame logic soaked into reality, and the almost-digital narrator continued. “This is the tutorial level in Blah Blah so you have room to practice. Go ahead and type in the letters above that zombie’s head to kill it.” The mostly acclimatized farmer adjusted the odd weapon. “Alright, stranger, let’s kick some-“
Maturity Warning: Read With Caution
“Oh hey. Some swear words might not be OK.
Actually it’s probably OK to say “kick some ass” because of the content we’re planning to include as you’ll see. Khoutas. Now go ahead- Nice. You got that one. Cool. You’re not wasting any time at all. You’re a natural at this. Keep on going. There are nine zombies left.”
The words above the zombies spelled a sentence.
That sentence read: “This is the tutorial level. We appreciate your gameplay time.” Khoutas adjusted his odd gun, which was a bright green rifle crudely augmented with keyboard on top, and continued typing the remaining words in the sentence. The acclimatizing farmer wasn’t used to typing, so he typed slowly.
Each key Khoutas pressed shot a bullet with that letter.
Text bullets violently ripped through flesh. The zombie with the word “is” above its head exploded with a loud moan. Its bright green control collar shattered and it fell to the ground. The neophyte typist incorrectly typed a letter when attempting to kill the next zombie and the gun jammed.
“Hit the Backspace key and try it again.”
The now fully acclimatized grizzled farmer typed letters into the keyboard mounted directly onto the odd rifle with a slow, waltzing rhythm. The rifle had a comfortable heft, rested mid-waist, and had ergonomic straps going over both shoulders. Firing each bullet had only minimal haptic recoil, nearly sensual in sensation.
The shredded zombie corpses piled up as Khoutas continued to practice firing.
After successfully killing all ten zombies, serenity seemingly returned to the Keen family farm. The unworldly pink skies with infected brown clouds slowly turned into pleasant blue with cheery white clouds and a calming silence satiated the air. It was approaching morning. A bold “VICTORY” sign appeared out of nowhere.
“That deserves a high five.”
After high-fiving, the anachronic stranger brought out a strange handheld device, and typed into it. “This level worked out well. No bugs here so it’s time for me to fix this Git issue hiding in the DLLs. I’ll reappear in the next vertical slice level for playtesting and debugging. Bye.”
The stranger, rifles, and zombies disappeared.
Regaining his bearings, the husband remembered his family in their farmhouse, and ran toward the house. “Karla! Kiki!” The front door was wide open. No sounds throughout. The seemingly unscathed house showed no signs of struggle. They were gone! All their rifles and pistols surrounding the mantelpiece were also missing.
“Time to figure out what the hell’s going on.”
Cameras returned to the talk show.