Would That I Had Someone Special With Whom I Could Share My 'Galaga' Achievements

Top Headlines

Recent News

Most Likely Candidates For Trump’s Cabinet

If elected president, Donald Trump will have the opportunity to nominate up to 15 cabinet members, each advising him on executive departments. Here are the most rumored choices for Trump’s inner circle.

Cake Just Sitting There

Take It

CHICAGO—Assuring you that there was nothing to worry about and not a soul around who would see you, sources confirmed Tuesday that a large piece of chocolate cake was just sitting there and that you should go ahead and take it.

Siblings Each Hoping Other One Will Take Care Of Aging Parents Someday

CLEVELAND—Explaining that they simply didn’t want to have to deal with the immense time commitment and emotional exhaustion, sisters Katie and Ellen Cattell each privately admitted to reporters this week that they were hoping the other sibling would someday be the one to take care of their aging parents.
End Of Section
  • More News
Up Next

Would That I Had Someone Special With Whom I Could Share My 'Galaga' Achievements

Level 87 cleared. Enemy space-bugs dispensed with in record time. Victory. Victory over the red moths, the blue bees, those flying things that look a bit like scorpions, is once again mine. And yet, there is something still missing, I fear. There is an emptiness here. A growing void. One as deep and as infinite as the great Galaga universe itself.

Yes, special bonus stages included.

Lo, if I only had someone special with whom to share my space adventures. An extra life would I happily sacrifice for that kind of joy. During these past 20 years, I have experienced much. I have known the satisfaction of achieving a near perfect Hit-Miss ratio. I have tasted the sweet triumph of blasting an entire squadron of green ships, in perfect order, as they closed in on me from above. I have even known High Score.

But what is any of it worth, I ask you, without a special someone to share in the glory? Without a loving companion? A Player 2, flying tandem, in the game of life.

No, I do not mean Greg. I'm talking about a woman, for crying out loud.

Indeed, love is the rarest of all creatures, more rare even than those yellow stingrays that zip past you at supersonic speeds. It is stronger, and draws you in faster, than any tractor beam imaginable. Love will make you the fool, will make you act unlike yourself. For instance, instead of waiting by the leftmost edge of the screen in order to pick off incoming space-bugs, love will make you wait in the center—the very nexus of enemy fire.

Still, it would all be worth it.

There is so much inside of me that I have to give. So much that I long to share. The 3,000 entrance patterns I have committed to memory. The hidden cheat that will disarm all enemy fighters for the remainder of the game. How to double your firepower by rescuing a captured ship. All of it, I dream of one day whispering into my sweet inamorata's ear. Except maybe the hidden cheat.

Do not mistake me, I would treat my lover, whoever she happened to be, like a toadstool princess. Spoil her as she ought to be spoiled. Pour more quarters into her than even that Ms. Pac-Man machine at the Cumberland Mall. Her name, or at least her initials, I would carve atop every High Scores list I came across. There they would stay, a fitting tribute to our love for all of time.

Unless, of course, that jerk "AXL" came along, at which point her initials would probably be second on the list, which, I suppose, is still pretty good.

But woe, all of this—this addled rambling—is nothing more than a pipe dream. I have long lost my turn at romance. And, if I do not soon depart, I will also lose my turn in the Galaga tournament currently taking place at Zack's Arcade. There is a $300 grand prize for the winner, and this silly freckled girl, Jenny Shapiro, has been holding my place in line for several hours now.

Ugh, what an absolutely terrible arcade player she is. She can't even reach the factory level on Donkey Kong. I can't stand her.


Sign up For The Onion's Newsletter

Give your spam filter something to do.

X Close