DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language. I live in a country where it is the second official language and medium of instruction, though. So I tried my best to make this one as natural as possible. I hope you will have fun reading my creation.
"PERKY HOCKEY" by KINDOFHUSH EPISODE 1 -- A NOT SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY
I wish birthdays could be defenestrated.
"Can we at least play PS5?" I yammered, walking my parents to the porch.
Mom gave me a teasing smirk. "Absolutely not. I've already locked your gadgets up somewhere."
She strutted through the door in her glittery black dress. Waves of her hair bounced with every move.
"Your mother is right, Son." Dad grabbed Mom's coat and gave her a hand with it. "You're still grounded."
"But what are we gonna do? It's supposed to be my birthday party!"
"Well, you got those snacks and two large pizzas in the kitchen, your birthday cake in the fridge, and to top it all off? Freedom while we're gone for the night." That still didn't answer my question, Dad.
I crossed my arms, scowling at them.
"Oh, don't you give us that look, Gabriel Kurt Hamston." Here we go again with the classic full-name blast, courtesy of my mom. "Why can't you just be grateful?"
"Yeah, Son, isn't this supposed to be what you've been waiting for?" Dad pulled up the right sleeve of his tux, then shook his fist up and down.
Ugh. What the hell?
"Anyway, we gotta go, honey. Don't forget my only rule."
"I know, Mom--thou shall not leave the house."
"Great. And, oh, you better keep your underwear and sheets dry."
My jaw crashed down the floor like a bombshell, and every nerve in my body snapped.
"Mooom, I'm not a little kid anymore! I literally turned thirteen today!"
Oh great. One of my best friends of a jerk popped behind them on his bike, smirking and mouthing a mimicry of what Mom just said.
"Well, your friends and dad are not the only subscriber to the pull-the-birthday-boy's-leg channel."
I hate this day.
They wished me a "happy birthday" one last time and kissed me goodbye. But after their car left, I slammed the door.
Happy birthday, my ass! Talk about a bad time to flunk two tests at school. So now, instead of having a huge party, I was stuck with a small, intimate sleepover.
"Don't wet your underwear, honey." And this big-nosed mocker just had to rub it in.
"Shut up, Ginger Boy!" I retorted, climbing down the stairs to the sidewalk.
A fluid rumbling turned up behind me and stopped with a click. My shoulders dropped from warm tingles as two arms hung from behind.
"Feelin' a little grumpy, huh, dude?"
And here came the second one on his skateboard, but with a beam in his face that maneuvered my entire mood. Wait, that scent coming from him...
"You missed a lot, Enzo! You should have seen Gabe's face when his mom--"
"Don't you dare, bud! I swear I will shove the skateboard down your throat!"
When the vibe was on, a moron would always butt in to shut it off.
"Man, why are you being such a bummer? It's your birthday, we gotta celebrate."
"Oh, I've been celebrating. With a friend called--frustration."
"Nigel's right, Gabe. We got your house all to ourselves overnight." Enzo picked up his skateboard. "We can do anything we want."
"The good, the bad..." Nigel's cheer turned into a whisper as he put his arm around me, "and the naughty ones."
"Whatever!" I removed his arm.
Shuffling into the garage, I lead them to the usual spot for their bike and skateboard.
I glimpsed at the stained clock on the wall. "It's only eight o-clock, and we don't have gadgets to spend the night with."
"We could take turns on CoD," Nigel suggested. "I have my phone."
"Take turns? That's the dumbest idea ever, bud."
"Oh! Let's have a Marvel movie marathon," the not so genius guy on my other side enthused.
"Ugh! If I watched any more of those, I might barf my entire gut out. I'd rather smooch the iguanas in the school science lab than do that."
Nigel sniffed around, only to grimace and cover his nose with his arm. "Ew! What the hell is that stench?"
They dropped their bags, and scoured the place. In the corner, a towering cabinet covered in the entire world's filth and--who-knows-what--stood.
The three of us stepped closer, and ugh! It reeked like the toilet crime of a person who feasted on a Mexican food buffet. Maybe a nose replacement would be a better idea after this.
"What's in this gigantic piece of crap?" Nigel asked.
And I held my breath with all the strength I could muster. "Oh, I don't even wanna know about it."
"When did this abomination get in here, anyway?" Enzo ended up whooping behind me.
"An old lady who owes my dad a guap gave it to him last week."
"This is ancient, man!" Nigel hollered. "It should be in a junkyard."
"Wait, Mom said she locked up my gadgets somewhere. Could it be..."
"No, no, no--there's no way I'm getting' my hands on that. I bet my butt even the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs avoided it!"
"Ga...Guys? I think something doesn't add up in here." Enzo's eyes circled around the garage.
He grabbed a broom leaning on the wall by the door, and swept all the dirt off the cabinet.
"Look, isn't it a bit familiar?"
Well, with all the dirt cleaned up, it unmasked its true face. It was painted with vibrant colors, patterned into a fiery vortex. Topped with silhouttes of people playing... hockey? It even had light bulbs inserted in it. Wait a friggin minute...
"Holy crap, it looks just like one of those game machines in the arcade," I chuckled.
"Exactly," He affirmed. "So how can something that's supposed to be old school look like this?"
Nigel came forward to inspect it too. "Possibly not that old. But where are the tickets? And there were no handles to open it either."
Oh yeah. So much for the idea of my gadgets hidden in here.
"It looks cool to me now, though. Except for the nasty stench again, and... this portrait of you over here, Enz."
He guffawed at the side of the machine. A picture of a monkey whose face burned in fury, wearing hockey gear, hung on it.
"You think that's funny, huh? Well, we all came from him, you doofus!" Enzo bantered with a push.
He retaliated, and they ended up in a frolic wrestling session. So, I entered into referee mode before it got serious.
"Hey, knock it off, you two!"
Ugh! My words just passed through their ears. The pettifoggery continued until both of them crashed into the hanging picture.
It fell off. Crackles echoed from the machine, and a huge vertical crack crawled up on it. Uh-oh...
"Guys, watch out!"
A bang thundered through the garage as a huge wooden case ejected!
They both tumbled. But I caught Enzo in my arms, and we rolled down the floor with me on top of him.
I knew we were at the wrong time and place, but... our closeness encored the lingering scent from him. Apple, peach, and orange--oh yeah, a blend of those.
"Are you wearing cologne?" I grinned.
"Yeah, but my mom just made me wear it." He rolled his eyes. "Pretty lame, huh?"
"Nah, I actually think it's terrific."
We exchanged giggles, but then a groan cut it short.
"Guys? Enough with the cheesy eye contact!" Nigel lay a few feet away from us. "I need a little hand in here."
Oh crap! The wooden case landed on him.
I got off Enzo, offering him my hand. We rushed to Nigel, lifted the case, and helped him get back on his feet.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Well, I'm still alive, but--aw!" He rubbed his lower back. "Aaaw! Man, I guess my back won't be for long."
"Whoa, check this out!" Enzo bent down near the case.
It had cracked open, revealing a black cardboard box with nothing but a label on it--written in a bubbly orange font.
"Perky Hockey," I read.
And below was a subtitle in a scripted font that said, Can you endure the pleasure?
"What the hell does that mean?" Nigel cried.
Enzo shrugged. "I'd say it's rad."
"Well, why don't we find out what's in it?"
Rad, my ass! If it wasn't for us working together, I might have lost my arms getting the giant piece of baloney inside the house.
We opened the box in the living room, and it turned out to be a tabletop game similar to... Wait for it... air hockey. Except it was smaller, had a square shape instead of the usual rectangular, and had goals on all sides.
Oh, did I mention it also had the same pattern design as the machine?
We moved aside the center table and put the game in place of it.
"So some tabletop game, huh?" Enzo took a closer look.
"The puck is here in the box." I grabbed and passed it to Enzo.
But it slipped my hand even before he reached it and plunged straight to the table like a frisbee.
"Whoa, what was that?" he asked.
"I dunno. It was like a magnetic force sucked it."
"Sick! I wanna try it now."
"You could do that if we ever find the paddles," Nigel suggested with a sarcastic tone.
We rummaged the box, and no paddles showed up. But... There were four cordless joysticks.
Enzo held out his hand. "Do you guys think these are the--"
"Hey, don't touch it!" Nigel cried. "We don't even know what those would do."
"Oh, don't be such a pussy! It's just a game controller. What harm can it cause?"
Nigel scrunched up a face at him.
"What'd you think, Gabe?" Enzo continued.
"Well, we gotta try if we wanna try. On a count of three?"
I did the counting, and we all grabbed a joystick at the same time. As soon as it got in my hand, a muggy breeze grazed through my skin.
I gulped, "You guys, felt that?"
"Yeah." Their voices cracked in unison.
The lights went bloody crimson, and a chain of slams had us jumping off our asses. It was the windows! They were sliding down one by one.
Even the ones in the kitchen and the dinning room were not spared.
I checked the second floor, then rushed back to them. "Guys, all the windows upstairs are shut too."
"Guess what? The doors too," Nigel added.
My eyes widened as a tremor stroked through my body.
"Okay, this is getting sketchy," Enzo gave in.
Wait, the game... It lit up! Lights blinked around it, while digits were displayed on top. A double zero that faced each side, but one was left empty. And in the middle, a digital clock.
"Wait a friggin' minute, holograpic paddles? When did this happen?" I asked in shock, waving the joystick.
"I dunno, we were busy checking the... mother of hockey! The paddle in front of you slid when you waved the joystick," Enzo pointed.
I waved the joystick again. Oh man, the paddle indeed moved in sync with my gestures. They copied me, and as expected, the paddles on their respective sides followed.
Nigel squinted at me. "Great! From finding your stupid gagdets, we ended up with a supernatural Wii."
"I'd say we take a whack at it," Enzo grinned.
"Are you outta your mind, man?" He retorted. "We don't even know how this game actually works, let alone its catch."
"I'm with Nigel on this. Holding us in prison already speaks for itself, bud. We shouldn't take a leap in the dark."
"Chillax, will ya? I'm sure there's an instruction manual somewhere."
Crap! Why didn't we think of that from the beginning?
We checked the box again. Ugh! No manual. But we found a sheet of black paper with a note on it:
Let the game of desires smite.
With a pat on the clock, it shall ignite.
Do not let the heat cloud your judgment.
The urge could worsen your torment.
Anyone who failed to protect their territory
They will lose a piece of their glory.
To the one who remains before the time has withered
A wish for reward shall be delivered.
To those who will be unlucky
Shall face the wrath of Randy the Monkey.
"What kind of shit is this?" Nigel shrieked.
His shriek made me cover my ears, by the way.
"Wow, bud. What kind of pipes have you swallowed?" I exhaled. "Ugh! A weird game with cryptic rules? This is not the kind of birthday I asked for!"
"A not so happy birthday, Gabriel," he sneered. "But funny enough, this is just like that old movie about a funky board game. So are we supposed to beat it now?"
Enzo heaved. "At least it doesn't look like it's gonna suck us into it, right?"
"Bud, facing the wrath of a monkey named Randy sounds worse than that."
"Oh, screw it! Let's just get this over with." Nigel lunged back to the game and patted the clock.
And the timer started at 03:00:00. We just entered the road of no return.
Wow, we went down to a wire. None of us had scored yet. I guess those days of hanging out in the arcade paid off.
"Oh yeah, baby! Hit me your best shot, because I'm not gonna--" So much for the bragging, Enzo.
My strike went straight to his goal. I smirked at him, while Nigel burst into laughter. But that laughter warped into a gape.
"En...Enzo, your beanie!" He cried.
It disintegrated into thin air.
Enzo grope his head with a frowl of confusion. "Hey, where the heck did it go?"
"It got Thanos-snapped," I replied.
"What? But how in the... Oh no. Anyone who failed to protect their territory..."
My head fell over the table. Talk about a delayed activation of brains cells.
"I don't like where this is going," Nigel grumbled.
Neither did I. Getting uncovered? Forget it! Not now, not with--him--in front of me.
"Dang it! I hate it when people see this hideous haircut."
"Hideous? That buzz looks hot on your black locks, bud!" My stupid mouth just blurted out of the blue.
That left both of them gaping at me.
Nigel grimaced, tilting his head. "Man, did you just hit on Enzo?"
Hit on? Oh crap! Game of desires...
"It...It wasn't me. It was the game! I think it made me say it."
"Yeah, right. Or maybe... it was you all along, and the game just gave a little push," he gibed.
Yeah, fact-check? I had always admired Enzo's locks, and the haircut added more to it. It complemented his bushy eyebrows and smooth almond skin, manifesting the Orient Pearl roots he had.
"Guys, the bomb is ticking," Enzo stammered, flushing. "Let's just continue before things get weirder. Shall we?"
We started another rally. Nigel got fidgety this time, resulting in Enzo hitting his goal. Oh, and it cost him his shoes.
"That was my dad's Christmas present to me!"
Enzo and I just let out a snicker, then we carried on with the game. Well, the tweenie-whiny boy had turned the tables, scoring against each of us in a row. There go our shoes.
Our next round went tight again, turning the game into an arena of speed. Sweat trickled on each of us. Enzo targeted me, while I had my eye on getting even with Nigel. But the guy was on a roll. He kept on returning my strikes.
"Eat my dust, Birthday Boy!" He launched the puck towards me like a torpedo.
I shot back by the skin of my teeth. The puck reflected in the wrong direction, though. It hit the edge and headed straight to the goal of the unoccupied side.
"Oops... my bad."
What the... my socks... they were...
"Hey, Enz, those are some juicy tootsies you got there." Look who was hitting on who now, Nigel.
"Nah, these are nothing compared to Gabe's--his are made for some fun sucking."
They gave me lewd stares, biting their lips.
"In your dreams, you pervs! You're not getting your tongues on--" Crap, that had me in a close call again. Good thing my hand went to my mouth on time.
They both shook their heads off, turning away from each other.
Wait, Nigel's... Nah, I chose to have my mouth shut, so I pointed at his... creamy, slick stompers instead.
"Hey, mine too?" he cried. "Why did it take all of ours?"
Enzo and I just turned to the unoccupied side again.
"That's it! I've had it with this game!" he yelled, shaking the joystick off his hand. "What the puck? It won't come off!"
I tried shaking off mine--his right.
"This...This is insane, man! How are we supposed to get outta this?"
"Guess we just have to finish the game," I mumbled.
"Can't you see? We already lost our kicks and socks. And with Enzo losing his beanie? No more accessories either, which leaves us with..."
He broke down, grunting and banging on the table.
Yeah, that would bring us to a whole new level now. And this game played on our hidden, naughty side in unexpected ways. If this continued, I could lose my crap and do something I might regret.
"Maybe we could get around it," Enzo interjected, "and still finish this."
I asked, wrinkling my face. "Huh? Translation, please."
"C'mon, I'll show you guys."
He ran upstairs and had us follow him to my bedroom. He opened my closet, only to find a nasty surprise.
"Oh, dang it! That piece of evil incarnate outfoxed us."
"Whe...Where did all my clothes go?"
"And forget about wearing kicks again." Nigel pouted, leaning against my empty shoe rack.
We left my bedroom with stumped shoulders and went back to the game.
"I'll save you guys from further surprises. I'm wearing a tee and y-fronts under this jacket and skimpy jeans." Nice revalation, Captain Whiny.
"Same, a tee under this pullover. But yours truly got boxer briefs goodies--if you could get rid of these cargos," Enzo added, winking at me.
All right, was that still the game getting into him, or he was the one hitting on me now?
But speaking of... I wore this hoody over a tank top with matching joggers. Don't ask about the one down below--I don't wanna talk about it!
"I guess... we should just avoid the unoccupied side?" I suggested.
"What if we actually had a fourth player?" Enzo asked. "Don't ya think it'd be easier for us?"
Nigel scoffed, "Are you kidding me? The game trapped us in here. What makes you think it's gonna let someone in?"
"It might if it was someone who would join in."
"I think Enzo's right," I grinned. "And I have an idea of who could save our asses."
TO BE CONTINUED...