Mine, mine, mine, not mine . . . Mr. Smilie kept on smiling. After all, his job was to be happy until the mines exploded. They hadn't, but Mr. Smilie knew they could at any second, so his smile, though computer-generated to perfection, seemed slightly strained. Sure enough, after a barrage of correct mines and not mines, a not NOT mine exploded in his face.
But even his sour expression returned to that pseudo-smile when the player pressed the "reset" button.
Hey, have a little pity here, thought Mr. Smilie.
"What was that?" The face on the other side of the glass cocked to the side, as if had heard Smilie's thoughts.
"Heh, heh," mumbled Smilie. "Thinks she can hear me, eh?"
"Who's talking? I can hear you, but I don't know who you are."
At this, Mr. Smilie's nonexistent eyebrows raised. "I'm the smilie face," he said, "on your computer screen."
The girl, who had thick auburn hair and matching eyes, peered into the monitor. "You can't be serious." Her voice wavered, as though it were a question.
Smilie smirked. "All day long, playing your little games, never dreaming that they might have feelings of their own. How typical."
"Wow, I can see your little mouth moving and everything! How cute!"
Rolling his eyes, Smilie quipped, "I can see this conversation is going nowhere."
"Um, what was that you were saying?" The girl frowned in concentration.
"I'll give you points for effort. Anyway, I'm saying that you shouldn't explode the mines in Minesweeper."
"But . . . it's just a game?" By now, even she didn't seem convinced of that.
"Don't toy with me," sighed Smilie. "I'm sure you've realized by now that Minesweeper is much more than just a game included in your Windows 98 software. It's ALIVE! I'm alive, the Sweeper's alive, though the first one escaped . . . I think he's hanging out at FanFiction.Net . . . but that's beside the point. You have NO RIGHT to subject sentient creatures to the kind of pain you inflict every time those mines explode."
"Um . . ."
"How would you like it if you were me or the Sweeper?" Smilie fumed. "You can't relate to what we're going through, I suppose . . . you can't understand how it is when every would-be friend who comes along only wants to blow something up IN YOUR FACE!"
The girl frowned, pausing before she answered, "Don't be too sure about that."
"You CAN'T understand," Smilie insisted.
But the girl ignored him and went on. "I suppose, in a way, I'm just like you. Friendships are like minefields sometimes, and betrayal can hurt as much as those ninety-nine explosives in your game."
Smilie growled in annoyance.
"So, deep inside, everyone has this inner Sweeper, obediently doing as society would bid, hoping their friendships won't explode in their face."
"BUT WHAT ABOUT ME?!!" Smilie blurted. "I HAVE FEELINGS, TOO!"
"What?" The girl blinked. "Oh. You. I forgot." She clicked on Smilie to reset the game and began clicking away.
Smilie rolled his eyes and prayed that she would win.