1 month, 1 week, and 1 night ago...

It was a Friday night and I decided to have some some friends over so we could raise some hell. However, raising hell is difficult without a spark to ignite the flames. My intentions were good in theory, but I hadn't thought through exactly what I hoped we could accomplish. I realized this only after I opened the door to see my 2 friends standing outside, looks of mischief masking them. I could not hide my premature disappointment in the night to come and I was left to the mercy of the night.

Everything started alright. I greeted my friends, we took our seats on the couch, and started playing Halon on the big screen. After a few minutes of action, we got into the flow of things and were absorbed into the world that is the First Person Shooter. After numerous killings and a good hour of slaughter, my friends really got into the game and started physically becoming a part of it. Yelling, jumping, running across the room, throwing the controllers, they did it all. Now, normally I'd be the guy that says "hey, stop before you break something," but i shamefully admit to being a part of this, and ultimately ending the excitement before it's time. You see, I have a strong tendency to get real worked up and hyper, and this night was no exception to me. After successfully sniping both of my friends 3 times in a row from my comfortable perch in the sky, I started getting real energetic, fist pumping, screaming, the whole enchilada. If I would have known what would happen next, I would surely have ending this ordeal and sent my friends off, but I'm not psychic and I did not see this coming: in the heat of my excitement, I fist pumped a little too hard and my grip on the controller was a little too weak. As you can guess, the controller went flying, clear across the room at a blinding speed. I tried to stop this as soon as I saw my mistake, I truly did, but I'm no ninja and the controller went soaring across the room before I could do a thing about it. Before my horror-opened eyes, the controller crashed through the big screen tv, opening up a massive hole. Needless to say, I was horrified. However, this emotion lasted only a moment, for I realized we now had nothing to do. 

"Good going, guys. Look what you made me do. Now what are we supposed to do? The tv's busted, and I'm sure the batteries in that controller just shorted out." I, being the narcissist that I am, immediately placed blame on the only other 2 people present, but one of them seemed completely oblivious to my accusation. Of course, he's a moron and can't pick up on such complex things. For example, he failed to detect the sarcasm in the last part of my speech, and a look of hope and optimism lit up his face, a huge smile cracking from one check to another.

"I've got an idea! Let's charge batteries!" As if trying for the worst possible idea for the moment, he spoke with such a confidence that I wanted to punch him square in the jaw, but I didn't. All I could do was give him a look of hatred and annoyance. He looked back, a dopey smile plastered across his face. "Come on," he said, "I'll go get the charger." This was going to be a long night...