November 18th, 2008.

I remember that day. Was the best day of my life. I can't remember having such a fun time, Valve had called me in on the spot for the position of "Director" in their newest game, Left4Dead, and I was more than obliged to join in on the little project. It sounded pretty stupid at first I'll admit, a big zombie apocalypse breaks out, you know, that kind of shit. But unlike those flashy Resident Evil titles, these zombies were fast, and strong, and capable of breaking down doors, running, scaling walls, even curb-stomping you. If you'd ever seen that movie 28 Days Later, and you didn't crap yourself before the end of the movie where they end up in that deserted hospital, you'd feel right at home, you know, if you lived in a bunker.

A bunker in the middle of a rabies-infected city, chop full of hideous monsters itching to rip you limb from limb.

But enough small talk about super advanced rabies and zombies, I know you didn't call me here to hear about what you just spent the last day or two playing through. Valve called me up last Saturday, saying they were about to release an expansion pack that held a "documentary" feaaturing all the characters in the game. Yes, ALL the character. The Horde, the Boomer, the Tank, even the damn Witch. Don't ask me how, I just spawn the zombies, I don't ask how cause its my job. Valve also wanted me to talk about some of my experiences and what my never-ending day in the "Source Code Room" was like. Lucky for you, buying this off Xbox Live for that shiny 3000 points, cause you'll be the only person other than the developers themselves to get a look at this room.

I'm the Director, and unlike the things you're about to witness, I've been "Left Alone".

Remember folks, any real-life similarities or missed references mentioned here are completely inaccurate. This documentary is solely for fun and writing practice and is not meant to be taken seriously.

LEFT 4 DEAD

THE DIRECTOR

So this was the place. White walls, spanning approximately thirty feet across, enough space for a jacuzzi, bathrooms, a bedroom, a kitchen and living area, sofa, furniture. The usual stuff you'd use to barricade a door in your generic zombie film, the stuff that the mild-mannered teenagers are never smart enough to use until the zombies have actually broken in. I guess this could be kind of fun...

Sheesh...I know I sound pretty sure of myself, but when you're in a position like mine, you get pretty cocky, what with all the power and all. My goal is to actually HINDER the Survivors as you know, its nothing personal truly. I mean, the Source Code Room is purposefully hidden away so that the Survivors never find it. Not too long ago, I think a few months back, some bozos on Youtube came up with a video called "Left 4 Dead 'Cheat Tutorial", thinking they could hack into the "Source Code" through the console. These are the kind of people that write NOOB on their foreheads, they actually asked for people to pay to learn the secret. Some of you aforementioned people may know this as the "Director Hack".

Well, it doesn't exist. I'll tell you this now. I'm in the Source CODE of the game. If I get hacked, that means those people are taking full control of the schematics, the coding, the dialogue, the entire GAME. Not just spawn points and panic events, EVERYTHING. The stuff you have to spend 4-5 years in college to have a HOPE of achieving.

And let's face it, no more than 6.2 percent of Youtube's population is intelligent enough to prorperly maintain a game, let alone build one from the ground up. Yes, I'm actually a normal guy, while you're in the middle of the game, pausing, reloading, checking around the corner for a Tank or tiptoeing past a Witch, I'm on MSN, chatting with my friend Ted or on Xbox Live in the middle of a Slayer match. I have video game consoles, I play Brawl online. I even have my old SNES emulator booted up to my computer so I can play some classic Matt In Hazard Land.

But that brings up the question of what I'm "allegedly" doing while my labtop's been "possessed" by an outside party. Valve planned for something like that and knowing that potentially half of their demographic would be lost if gamers found out that Left 4 Dead's difficulty variable modifier, namely me, could not be tricked, fooled, flustered, or cheated by some ten-year olds faulty attempt at manipulating the game engine with an Action Replay Max, they devised a second system behind me should I be reported "missing". You guys know it as whatever "Difficulty" you set the game on. Even if you don't have to worry about me dropping two tanks on you, you STILL have to worry about the Boomer and Hunter initially spawned at the beginning of the level that you ran from moments prior. And vice versa.

"So you see, you're in a position where you create this consistently blurry, terrifying atmosphere for the average gamer. We're not trying to impress some two year old with rich, inattentive parents who can sue us if the child grows up with a fear of closets." said Gabe Newell, "Director" of Valve Corporation, pulling me into the Source Code Room.

I tried to calm myself when he told me we were literally INSIDE the game, the hub of everything from where Gabe and his team had initially begun work on the game; the zombies, the weapons, the ammunition the characters. It had two sides to it, it meant that one I could alter the game in anyway I desired, and also that everything that WAS Left4Dead revolved around me.

The entire Horde held back by a simple loading screen, moans filtered out by sound options and Tanks....well, I couldn't imagine what they held them back with. To make matters worse, I was the one who had to spawn them, meaning they started out just INCHES away from my office. When I go to bed, all I'll hear is the Horde grunting and groaning, ripping and clawing at doors, spitting and stomping over streets during some midnight LAN party a couple of action-shrilled teenagers host.

Why am I such an asshole all the time?

"Hey guys, you up for some LEFT 4 DEAD at my house? We can stay up past 6', I've got the whole weekend!" Sean asked.

"Fuck yeah!" the teens responded.

I didn't sleep for MONTHS, all the relentless players who, although commendable for their love of zombie-themed action shooters, spent weeks playing the TWO levels released with the demo package over and over again.

It wasn't just the fact that I had to be awake after daylight hours spawning and respawning Boss Infected as well as rerunning scripts and commands to refresh the Horde size every time some retard decided to be funny and shoot a car, I literally COULDN'T sleep in my triple-mattress King-sized bed. Its hard to tell what was worse, having to hold my eyes open with clothespins and nearly poison myself drinking a truckload of caffeine every hour while monitoring the Survivors, or having to put up with the wretched sound of the Infected attempting to "pull back" into the Source Code once the game was shut off for the night for five minutes, right before I was up and at it again.

"God, not again...go....please..." I leaned away from my slump on the desk, my hand was covered in drool from my awkward sleeping ritual of collapsing for a few seconds whenever a Louis player did some stupid move that killed a Francais player, or whenever a Bill player used Zoey as zombie bait and then stuck her with a pipe bomb right before she was overrun.

The best moments I had found, however, were times when a Francais player tricked a Zoey and Louis player into taking a shortcut, while they themselves ran off to horde better weapons and ammunition from a stockpile not far away. I hit SHIFT+H on my keyboard furiously, a Tank dropped in on Francais and Bill.

I slowly grew accustomed to the simultaneous "Oh shit..." cues from Bill and Francais as they scrambled with what little ammo they had, the Bill player of course being short on ammo for having saved the other three numerous times, and the Francais player typically being the "dumbass" who believed himself to be so "l33t" he could win the game with just two pistols. It got harder and harder to believe that I was looking out for these kinds of players, maintaining their game and checking/balancing it so the Horde and the Bosses didn't just swarm them like a pack of rabies-infected rioters...wait a minute...

"I SWEAR TO GOD ZOEY, IF YOU KILL BILL ONE MORE TIME I'M GOING TO SHOVE A BOOMER SO FAR UP YOUR ASS-" I screamed, smashing my virtually indestructible keyboard on the desk repeatedly. Zoey cocked her shotgun and unloaded another round into Francais. The hit cost him his last bar of life as he dropped, rampaged by oncoming Horde members. Louis, too, was taken by the Horde for having tried to valiantly heal the biker, while the Bill player dropped his weapon, realizing that the two of them were no match for the Horde...

Times like these are examples of how stressful staying up for over thirty days and watching over a group of completely incompetent thirteen year olds can be, that and overdosing on those little sugar packets you find in a diner.

I realize now that that threat was a bit too rambunctious, and the result of my rash, fury-powered actions forced Valve to supply a downloadable patch so as to prevent the Director from "literally" inserting enemies into a Survivor's rear by splicing their animations. No, the footage, players during that game, and all information regarding the status of that game will NOT be released. Yes, the Zoey player was immediately rushed to Mercy Hospital and came out with only a few bad sutured cuts. I have no regrets.

"It's not really their fault. Look at the situation they're in, I mean: fast-moving 28DL zombies chasing them, FOUR zombie classes with almost perfect aim and cover bashing through other zombies and objects to pull them apart one by one. Less than ten weapons to defend themselves with and a constant fear of potent friendly fire and an infinite batch of zombies." I mumbled, editing out a Smoker that was about to snatch Louis from a faraway fire escape. The Louis player fired into an incoming pile of zombies, giving Zoey room to duck out of the way of Francais's line of fire and add more fire to the nearest Boss Infected player, tearing him apart into a puddle of death-smelling red glop. Bill covered them, sansthe threat of being 'smoked', pushing back the Horde with timed shots from his M16.

The worst things that came from the job were my own conscience. Zoey players, stoic and untrustworthy, Bill players, costly and grumpy, Louis players, greedy and wasteful, and Francais players, annoying and unhelpful. Whatever class they may have been, they were ALL still human. They had been deposited in the worst kind of situation possible and no matter the odds they still, on very rare occasions, managed to fight their way out of it through clever use of the environment. It was difficult adjusting, asking myself "When do I strike?" and "When do I hold back?".

And yet, it came to be almost tear-jerking to see Louis, Bill, Zoey, and Francais all enter the safe house, Bill readying a cocktail if necessary while Louis shouldered Zoey who was in the paws of a Tank about ready to tear her entire leg off. To see Zoey skillfully weave out her twin pistols and blind the Tank with a barrage of fire without batting an eye. To witness Louis, having not spammed the medical kits, patch Zoey up as other zombies clawed at her captured form, while Francais blasted away the Tank's hulking frame with an automatic shotgun. And right as they'd freed her from the Tank's clutches and slammed the door, Bill chucked the unpinned molotov outside, creating a small shield of fire to ward off any zombies or outlying Tanks that decided to be brave.

"Nothing can stop the COLE TRAIN BABAY!" the Louis player would chime, pumping his fist and high-fiving Francais and Zoey.

From there on out, with more talented and enthusiastic players coming in, things got interesting.