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Real Real Life
Chapter 01: You have Shrugged Off this Mortal Coil

Chapter 01: You have Shrugged Off this Mortal Coil

Pretty sad, isn't it?

The best thing that ever happened to me was getting crushed to death by a beer delivery truck.

I mean, if it wasn't for that I'd never have met Mandy, Kelly, Mona (and she did!)... or the rest.

So there I was, minding my own business, looking at the bikini-clad girl painted right on the back of this beer delivery truck. I didn't even know what brand of beer it was. Didn't matter. I was busy trying to tilt my head to get a look down this hot cartoon Polynesian-looking chick’s skimpy bikini bottoms. Which, in retrospect was stupid  — it was a picture.  But it was a hot chick and I've always had an eye for them. Not just an eye, a... wait, we'll get to that.

So there I was, looking at this chick, completely oblivious to the truck engine starting. And then the beep, beep, beep to warn that it was reversing. Actually I wasn't completely oblivious to the beeps. When they started I held out two hands like I was grabbing her tits and honking them. Beep, beep...

"Honk, honk…” I said.

Then the tits hit my hands  — they were just like I don’t like them: hard, painted, and attached to several tons of steel.

"What the... hey!"

Yeah.

They didn't hear.

No one heard.

"Hey—" I started but didn't finish. 

The beer truck driver wasn't very good at his job. He almost crashed straight into the wall. In fact, he would have crashed it into the wall if there wasn't something in the way.

Me.

Life sucks.

One minute you're honking cartoon tits, and then the next minute you're splat.

I was completely crushed. Flattened. Bones broken in over thirty-two thousands places. Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it sure felt like that many  — for the brief period before it all stopped, anyway.

That was it.

Game Over.

Dead.

The En... 

Just kidding.

It was really the beginning.

Everything faded to black and I was, like, switched off, for somewhere in the range of 1 second to a thousand years. I don't know. I was out of it, dead as you might say. Then the words Game Over really did flash in front of me. Like, actual floating text surrounded by the blackness of The Void. (We'll get to The Void later).

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"Jamie?" said a voice.

"What?" I projected. I didn't have lungs, or a voice box, or vocal cords, or a mouth or anything else for that matter, but I could still project a voice, apparently. Don't ask me how. Or, at least, don't ask the old me because I couldn't have told you. You could ask me now, and I could explain it, but the problem is you wouldn't understand it. Not yet, anyway, but in the fullness of time, young cricket...

"One more chance. Red pill or blue pill?"

"Barry!?"I project-yelled in shock.

"Yeah. Same deal as before. Red pill or blue pill."

"Fuck off," in disbelief I continued, "No way!"

"Are you absolutely sure? I mean, it will mean the end of your very existence."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. I didn't mean any of that. Umm red pill."

"Are you sure?"

"Which one was which again?"

Ten Years Earlier...

I had met Barry about a decade previously, online. He was a nutcase. At least, that's what I thought. We were playing a game, a real old school one. You probably wouldn't know about it  — too young, or not cool enough. (I'm using the opposite definition of cool by the way— obviously)

No, we were playing a MUD — that's a Multi User Dungeon to you  — called Threshold of the Gods. If you don't know what a MUD is, it's basically like World of Warcraft, except only with text. Literally, all text. No beastly graphics card required. Who needs to see a beautiful dragon soaring across your screen when you can read the text: 

> A DRAGON SWOOPS DOWN AND ATTACKS! 

That's what our imaginations are for, right?

Anyway, Barry aka Turnip (that was his character's name) said to me one day, (by 'said' I mean 'typed', there was none of this mic stuff in the MUD), the following. And this is honest to God's truth exactly how the conversation went down  — I know because this isn't memory, I copied and pasted this shit from my old logs just for your reading pleasure:

Turnip > Jamie, imagine what it would be like if the real world was like this game.

I didn't have much to say to that because it was a stupid thing to say, and I can't abide stupid.

Turnip > Hello?

BDJ> Hello Turnip. WTF are you chatting about?

Turnip > What if I told you that the real world was like this game. That you could travel through it, level up, meet people from all over the world...

BDJ>Can I cyber dark-elves?

Turnip > No.

BDJ>Well fuck off then.

Turnip > No, listen. You can't cyber dark elves because it wouldn't be cyber it would be real, and there aren't any real dark elves.

BDJ> Huh. Can I cyber dusky maidens?

Turnip > Not if you call them dusky maidens lol. And again, there's no cyber in RL.

BDJ> Lame

Turnip > Shut up. Listen to me. I'll give you a choice, and I'm only going to offer it once.

BDJ> LOL

Turnip > LISTEN FUCKNUT

BDJ> OK OK OK

Turnip > Red pill or blue pill. I'll explain:

BDJ> LOL, too much Matrix, buddy.

Turnip > Shut up. That's where we got it from. We thought YOU might understand better if we referenced something you know.

BDJ> LOL

Turnip > Red pill, you carry on with your sad little life, the highlight of which is cybering dusky maidens.

BDJ> Nope. I CYBER dark elves. The dusky maidens is RL.

Turnip> Christ. Blue pill, the shades are lifted from your eyes.

BDJ> But I like my Wayfarers.

Turnip > You're insufferable.

BDJ>SUFFER

Turnip > I am, asshole. You know, I used to think you were cool.

BDJ>  I am cool. Cool as your mom.

Turnip> She's dead.

BDJ> I know.  COLD huh? I'm so cold I'm cool.

Turnip> Fuck OFF. Anyway, blue pill, you get to play the Game of Life, for real.

BDJ> The boardgame?

Turnip > No, the tv show.

BDJ> LOL

Turnip > Kidding. I mean REALLY, Jamie. No joke now.

BDJ> AFK

Turnip > No, you're not.

BDJ>Alright, I'm not, but I'm not looking at this chat anymore, there's a hot-ass dark-elf called Lisa who wants to cyber.

Turnip> Lisa? The 17/f/Cali girl?

BDJ> Fuck off. AFF’nK.

Turnip >"She's" an obese 42 year old man from South Dakota.

Turnip > Hello?

Turnip > Are you there?

CHAT CLOSED

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