Boom – Crash – And a Little of Both
By Silvorfithrade
Kyle stared at the twinkling glow-in-the-dark stars at his ceiling with halfhearted amusement as his mind, craving anything but sleep, wandered. He wondered if life would be different had he never touched the icon on his computer's desktop labeled 'Minesweeper'. Would he have more friends? Probably...
You see, Kyle was one of the few of his kind, a Minesweeper addict. He had this uncanny desire to spend hours upon hours in front of his laptop playing Minesweeper, whiling away hour after wasted hour into the night as he clicked little buttons and watched the numbers tick up or down his score.
He had developed, after playing Minesweeper for so long, an uncanny ability to imitate each and every one of the Minesweeper smiley's many different facial expressions, and he was becoming rather paranoid of tiny, spiked black dots in any context. The numbers 1-5 meant more to him than most people could even guess.
"Don't click the three," he muttered rather aimlessly as he drifted off to a fitful slumber.
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"Kyle, honey, time for breakfast!"
"Wha?" Kyle jolted awake, but his body ached as though he hadn't gotten any sleep at all. He couldn't believe it was morning already!
"Kyle! Come down here!"
"Coming!" Before commencing his usual morning routine, Kyle whipped out his laptop. Maybe there was time for one more game...
"Don't even think about touching that mouse, Kyle," a deep, throaty voice growled from behind him. Kyle whirled around and blinked as he stared into the eyes of the largest, evillest looking disembodied smiley face he had ever seen in his life.
"You overuse my domain, Kyle. My penalty for that crime...is death."
Unsure of what was going on, Kyle did what most teenagers in his situation would do: he panicked. Dropping his laptop on the bed, he scrambled back and grabbed frantically for the doorknob. The smiley, however, was too fast for him, and it materialized in front of him as he reached to pull the door open.
"Don't try to escape, Kyle. You have to face consequences in life, you know..."
"No! This can't be happening! I'll quit playing, I swear! I'll try a twelve-step program! I'll use the patch! I'll chew the gum! I'll start campaigns! I'll..."
Shut up, incompetant mortal!" the smiley boomed at him, reducing his blathering to the occasional whimper. A round, black, spiked dot about the size of Kyle's head appeared next to the smiley. "Do you know what this is, Kyle?"
"A...a mine?" Kyle whispered fearfully.
"Yes, Kyle," the smiley confirmed. "A mine. And do you know what dastardly smileys like me use mines like this for?" When Kyle shook his head slowly, the smiley continued, "We use them to punish people that become addicted to simple games like Minesweeper!"
Kyle let out a frightened squeak as he dove under his bed. The mine dropped right in front of his face, and the smiley cackled, "Three...two...one..."
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"Kyle! Get out of bed!"
Kyle jolted awake from his nightmare to the sound of his mother's voice. "Y...yes?"
"You're already fifteen minutes late! Get down here before you're late for school!"
Kyle frantically patted himself down to make sure it was all a dream. Body parts still here? Good, good...
"KYLE!"
"Coming!"
This time, Kyle ignored the laptop and bolted down the stairs instead. His father reclined in an armchair reading a newspaper. He peered at his son over the paper. "Nice to know someone's awake today."
Kyle froze. There, on the back of his father's newspaper, was a Wal-Mart advertisement, and on the advertisement was emblazoned an enormous yellow smiley face.
He took two quick breaths to calm himself, but almost passed out at what happened next.
The smiley winked at him.