“Eeeew, what the hell man! Why are there actual worms in the ground!” I heard Riley scream from not too far away. It had been a week since I accepted her into my world and it had gotten a lot livelier.
Ignoring the complainig teen I put my shovel into the ground and stamped on the shoulder of the blade. The steel slit into the moist clay like a knife into butter. Putting strength onto the handle I pushed it down, and with it, I moved another part of the clay up and out of the ground.
Two days ago, while preparing for the build of the dressing rooms, Henry had come to talk to me. He informed me he could not make the trenches needed by the plumber. Me thinking it a good idea to ask what the plumber needed got a shrug in response. In the end, I asked for the blueprint and tried to decode it myself.
After an hour I still had no clue how the hell I could squeeze any meaning out of the blueprints. I had never in my life used one. Not even looked at one. The movies made it look simple, but the lines were all over the place and I didn't know what should go where.When Riley came by and taught me another handy trick, I almost fell to my knees and thanked the gods. Unsightly, but appropriate.
“So when you have a blueprint, even if your are play… if you are in the most realistic world. You can ask the system to give you a general outline of its foundations. For example,” She interrupted her explanation and coughed three times as if she was about to give a speech. Then she lifted the blueprint in the air and theatrically shouted to the sky, “O merciful overlords. Please bless us with a glimpse into these divine building plans.” As she finished her 'prayer' the ground turned a very unnatural blue where trenches were to be dug.
“Interesting. Do you need to ask them like that though?” I asked. I doubted it. She looked at me, with a blank stare trying to keep her face from showing any emotions. Nostrils and cheeks twitching sometimes. Then she said “Yes. Why don’t you try it for the other one?” Her face still the epitome of emotionlessness. Or at least she tried.
I doubted that any such thing was necessary. But I wasn’t averse to some theatrics. I coughed, took a pose of grandeur, and shouted “Great game overlords! Please bless this unknowing fool with knowledge on this divine building! Show me the way of thy world so I can shape it in thy brilliance!” I hoped for thunder, but it never came. The blue marks on the ground did though, so I didn’t do it for nothing.
I looked at Riley and asked, “How did I do?”
She smiled from ear to ear and said, “Decent enough, six out of ten. But next time try sitting on your knees and kissing the ground. It would add a lot to the whole dynamic of the request.”
I guffawed at that and then focused my attention on the lines. The lines for the dressing room was easy to spot. A kind of ‘T’ line towards the back. On the right handle of the T more lines going out. The shower. The other dressing room was the same. All as planned. What we did not plan for was that the lines went out of its intended parameter, around the fence toward the river. On the other side of the field.
“Goddamnit…” I mumbled, seeing the distance we would have to dig. It was an easy two hundred meters. One was going around the field on the right side and the other on the left.
Riley followed my line of sight and echoed my feelings “For fuck’ sake. We need to dig that? Like some goddamn dig zombie.” I interrupted her with a firm “Language!”
“All right, all right, fuck. A goddamn trench dig person. Happy now?” She said, looking at me exasperated. I nodded and said “Yes. Now stop your bitching and grab a shovel.”
Ever since we had been digging up the sticky clay. Making trenches of thirty centimeters wide and thirty centimeters deep. It was monotone and boring work but I didn’t mind. I had done monotone and boring for a long time already. Riley was a different story.
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“We could just rent an excavator but noooo, grandpa rather keeps the seven hundred and fifty bucks. I didn't even know you could get blisters in this fucking game. What goddamn maniac wants to dig a two hundred meters long trench with a shovel! Why not just move these fucking buildings to the other side of the field! Bad Feng Shui he says. Fuck Feng Shui man, I'm bleeding!” She complained, loud enough for me to hear.
I ignored the complaining teen. I was just glad it was cloudy, and that there was no sun to harden the clay. Or rain to make our beautiful trenches into swimming pools.
Clay stuck to my face, my hands and about half my body was brown. On it, little patches of brown dead grass. My best friend was in such a sorry state I could hardly recognize it. I felt acceptance. This was where we were at right now. Not yet ready for its redemption. But one day I would see it in its full glory once more. The thought cheered me up. Until I decapitated a mole. The fucker deserved it but the blood spraying out of his tiny body ruined my shoes. As much as clay covered shoes could get ruined.
The little fuckers were my new arch enemy. Now that I embraced the digital world, they rose to the top of my list of most hated things. Right next to my daughter-in-jail. It had a simple reason. They fucked up the love of my life. Like a plague, they could turn a perfect field of bright and vibrant green into a dumpster fire. Creating molehills everywhere, making it unplayable. The usual way was to catch them and place them somewhere else. I preferred in a bag in the river, but most found this ‘horrible’ and ‘barbaric’. It wasn’t a problem now though. Not much to ruin. I didn’t even know if I could buy those traps in the store.
Leaving the problem of catching them for another day, I was reminded again of the double edged sword that this realism embodied. They could have left this detail out. I didn’t need the ugly little creatures in my life. I stared at its mutilated body and felt nauseous. Not wanting to waste more time on the creature I scooped it up and threw it on a pile of clay.
Then I shouted “I killed a mole. Very bloody. Better watch out where you are digging.” I smirked at the “What!” scream I heard from Riley's general direction and continued onwards. Digging a trench.
Four hours later we were still digging. Almost done, only ten meters left, and while I couldn’t get tired in this world, I felt exhausted. I shoveled another heap of clay out of the trench when I noticed Riley. She was a mess. All over, her yellow tracksuit was now brown, brown smudges on her face, pieces of grass and clay in her hair. She stood next to me. Even though she did her best she was about ten meters behind. So why she stood there was a mystery.
“Hey, can you smell this? It smells weird.” She asked, holding up her hand as she smelled a bigger than average piece of clay...
Exhaustion making me dull and uncaring I got out of my trench. I stepped over the dug up wall next to it and took a sniff. The moment I did, she pushed the pile into my face and ran away. Laughing. The motherfucker. I tried to shout “You…!!!” But instead of my intended outlet of anger, I learned that the taste of clay was more realistic than I wished it to be. I spewed the contents of my mouth onto the ground to spit it out but it had only minimal success. My nose filled up with the stuff so far that it felt like the clay had made it to my brain.
It took three minutes to get mud free. Three minutes filled with cursing, spitting and blowing my nose at various angles. When I removed everything from the holes and crevices on my face, I ran after the culprit. She shrieked and laughed. Running away again when she saw I came after her.
“You can be a real cunt if you want to be you know that!” I shouted after her.
She gave me the bird and shimmered out of existence. Young people. It made little sense to follow her into the real. I was even weaker there. So I decided to finish the trench and then log off. But first, I should find that mole and make it into a nice little surprise… I could use it for good. Get some karma for its species. Doing the good deeds.
I dug my way through the last pieces of clay and as the line ended I stopped. Tired, dirty and mentally drained. I got out and looked at my work with pride. It was then that I noticed that there was still a blue line visible. Right next to the other one. Seeming to lead back to the dressing rooms. I stared at it for a full minute.
“Well then…” I mumbled as I threw my shovel through the air, gave the blue line the bird and logged off. I had no strength to argue with it. That would come tomorrow.