Lori Loud literally loved to game. When she was six, her parents bought themselves a used Nintendo 64 and a box of games from a yard sale. Dad hooked it up in the living room and sat down with her and Leni. "This is Mario 64," Dad said and gripped the controller, "the best video game ever made."
At that age, Lori knew nothing about video games, but the moment th vibrant colors and silly red hat wearing character filled the screen, she was in love. She watched her father play through the first level wth wide, adoring eyes. It was like a cartoon...but you were the main character. "Let me try!"
"In a minute, honey," Dad said, "I just have to -"
"LET ME TRY, DADDY! LET ME TRY!" She kicked her legs and whipped her head from side to side, her face turning red and the tip of her tongue shooting lizard like though the gap where her front teeth should have been. Dad and Leni both looked at her like she was crazy - Lori never threw major tantrums (only little ones). "Alright, alright," Dad said and shoved the controller into her hands, "sheesh."
Lori had never known a moment of greater bliss. In one hour, she understood the game and the controls well enough to beat the first couple levels. By the end of the day, she was so good that Dad could scratch his already balding head. "I don't get it," he said, "it took me years to get this good. What's your secret, honey?"
Because she was a snotty little kid with missing teeth, she had no idea what her secret was. As she grew older - and better - she realized what it was: Passion. The only way to be good at something is to first love it. Love it with all your heart, love it with every fiber of your being, eat it, sleep it, breathe it, live it. You also have to keep doing it over and over and over and over and over again. But if you really love it, you'll do that anyway. From Mario 64, she jumped to 007 Goldeneye, also on the N64. When she beat that, she begged her parents to get her a used Playstation. She beat every game for it that she could get her hands on: Resident Evil, the first two Grand Theft Autos, Metal Gear Solid, Medal of Honor. She shoveled driveways in the winter, mowed lawns in the summer, and raked leaves in the fall, saving everything she made and putting it toward her gaming. She bought a PS2 when she was thirteen, then an XBox 360 two years later. She played everything. EVERYTHING. Even genres she didn't like.
And when the day was done and she went to bed, she had classic arcade games downloaded on her phone to help her fall asleep. Pac-Man, Dig Dug, Pitfall, Breakout, Mappy, Pole Position, even the infamous E.T., which was so freaking bad that it is often cited as the primary contributing factor to the Video Game Crash of '82. So many copies went unsold that they buried huge piles of them in the desert. It was bad, yeah, but not that bad. Of course, Lori loved gaming so maybe she was a little kinder in her assessment than she should have been.
During the rare moments that she wasn't playing video games, she was thinking about playing video games or otherwise engaged in the world of gaming. She watched every episode of The Angry Video Game Nerd twice, and made it a point to play all the games he reviewed. Some of them, he was right on the money. Others...he was just a big baby. "It's so haaaaard." No it's not. I beat it my first try, James. Tighten up. Then again, he was a comedian and if she knew one thing about comedians from living with one, it was that they exaggerate for the sake of humor.
For a while, she considered doing a similar webserie, but decided against it. AVGN had the market on bad games completely cornered and no one would want to watch a series on good games, would they? Boring. People wanted to watch something interesting, not a competent gamer playing an all-around great game. Pfft, what was interesting about that? Nothing. Nothing was interesting about it at all.
Or so she thought.
As the oldest of ten, Lori was defacto in charge of her siblings and liked to think that she knew everything. Each day, like a normal teenager, she realized that she didn't. She was wrong just as much as she was right - just don't tell the others.
One of the things she was completely wrong about was people wanting to watch good gamers play good games. In hindsight, it made sense - people paid to watch good athletes play good sports. A few people in a Discord server she frequented mentioned a game they watched on Twitch and how much money he made from playing Minecraft and Fortnight.
That gave Lori an idea.
Mom and Dad only made so much and things were tight at the Loud house. Lori had to bust her hump to pay for games, her cellphone, and other stuff. If she could make a little extra on the side doing what she loved, then...awesome. If she was good enough, she might even hit AVGN levels and make her living playing games.
Was there any job on earth more perfect than that?
At the beginning of June, she created a Twitch account and started streaming. At first, she had one, maybe two, viewers, but slowly, word got out and she watched in astonishment as her viewcount grew and grew. This was awesome! She even made money from donations.
The first hint of trouble wasn't even really a hint of trouble at all. People would make comments about how she was good "for a girl" and express surprise that she wasn't "one of those girls who just sit there and look pretty."
Uh...okay. She knew that a female gamer was a rarity and didn't take offense when guys were shocked that the awesome dude they were playing online with turned out to be a chick. If they got sexist or dismissive or somthing, then yeah, but she wasn't in the business of screaming SEXIST PIG at people for no reason. Who does that? Angry, bitter man haters, that's who.
The second sign was when people would ask her to wear certain things when she played. It started innocently enough - wear that tank top you wore last week - then got really stupid. One dude wanted her to wear balloons on her shoulders. Okay, she did, and got tipped well for it. Then he said something about having a balloon fetish and she took them off. "Dude, that's gross," she said, "get out of here."
Maybe Lori was naive, but she didn't know that some girls streamed themselves playing games and let guys simp on them. They acted sexy, dressed sexy, and tried to get guys to give them money for being sexy. Uh-uh, not Lori. She was a serious gamer and she didn't like not being taken as such. "I'm not an egirl," she would say to her fans as she played, "so if that's what you want, move along."
The thing was...simps paid big time, and after a while, she realized that she had a lot of simp fans who were only there because she was a girl. Fine, whatever, but she wasn't taking requests or acting like an anime girl or whatever BS Pokimane did.
One day in early August, she got her first PM from CMB-11. I am big fan of urs and luv the way you play games.
She replied with a generic response - thanks, glad you like my stuff or something - and she thought that was it, but CMB replied. When she didn't instantly hit him back, he replied three more times in a row. The last time, he used a heart emoji. Oh, great, Lori thought with an eyeroll, another lovestruck simp.
Ob, but she was wrong. He wasn't just any simp, he was SUPER simp. He'd pop up every time she streamed. The little chat window on the right hand side of the screen, where people texted her and each other, would fill with his messages. It always started with hi followd by three smiley faces and ended with everyone calling him a cringelord because he was that embarrassing.
9pm; I want to mary u lol.
9pm: Just joeking lol
9:01pm: How r u?
9:01pm: I love this game we sould play it together sum time.
9:02:pm: How was ur day?
9:02pm: Lol mine was good I saw a game n store that reminded me of u lol
9:03pm: Did you see my other texts?
It was super creepy...but also kind of sad. Lori was kind of a deep thinker, and after months of being face to face with simps and neckbeards, she understood them a little better than some girls might. The guys who watched her for being a girl were lonely, socially awkward, and craved human contact, especially from the opposite sex. They had likely been rejected again and again, and being rejected hurts; in their own weird way, they tried to compensate for their lack of female contact by engaging girls online. Some were very inexpert at it, some were actually witty and charming, and could easily find a girlfriend if they just had a little more confidence.
Everyone wants attention and affection and not having it drives one kind of crazy. Lori understood that and she felt bad for those guys. Not bad enough to play video games naked or anything, but bad enough that she constantly stopped herself from being a bitch when they got on her nerves. She tried to be nice to CMB and address him once or twice a session, but he was so cringe she could hardly stand it.
Before long, he was asking if he could DM her so they could "be alone."
Ew, dude, no.
When she didn't respond, he slid into her inbox anyway talking about how beautiful she was and how much he wanted to see her brush her hair and paint her toenails for him. "Sorry," she typed with strained patience, "I don't do that. I play video games."
"Ok sorry for being annoying lol."
Two days later, in the chat, he told another user that he wanted to "drink her bath water."
"That's sick," Lori blurted, "someone's bath water? Really? What's wrong with you?"
Not just any bath water, he typed, yours, m'lady.
Oh, gosh.
A few days later, he said something that chilled her.
"You looked really good in that sweater and jeans shorts."
She had never worn a sweater or jean shorts on her streams, but she had worn them earlier that day when she and Leni went into town.
Was he…?
No, couldn't be. It was just a coincidence.
Then the cards started showing up in her mailbox. None had a return address and all were penned in the same blocky, child-like hand. One of them was signed: yours forever CMB.
What the freak? He had her address?
She blocked him, but the cards kept coming, followed by phone calls where the only sound was heavy breathing or, sometimes, music, always something sappy and romantic. Except for the one time he played "Every Breath You Take" by The Police.
Presently, she was sitting on the edge of her bed and hugging herself. All day, the back of her neck prickled with the feeling of being watched. On her way home from school, she was certain that someone was following her, but every time she looked over her shoulder, no one was there. She was strong...she was capable…
But she was also getting scared.
Something moved in the corner of her eye, and she whipped around with a sharp gasp.
A branch tapped against the window. She let out a sigh, got up, and went to the pane, staring up at the moon.
She did not see the dark shadow dashing away, did not see the camera it held and the picture of her on its screen.
Knock-knock-knock.
Lucy opened the door and Lincoln and Johnny came in. A roar of piped cheering, clapping, and hooting filled the room, as though an unseen audience was really happy to see them. Johnny put his hands on his hips and grinned to himself, basking in the adoration of his fans, and Lincoln looked around with a puzzled frown. "Where's that noise coming from?"
"Yo," Luna said from the couch. On TV, Kramer stood in the middle of Jerry's apartment, doing pretty much the same thing Johnny was: Smiling stupidly and waiting for the crowd noise to die down before saying his lines.
Ew, people still watch Seinfeld? Gross.
"Are you here for our date?" Lucy asked Johnny.
Johnny blinked in confusion. "Date? What date?"
"The one I'm planning right now."
"No," Johnny said and pushed Lucy out of the way, "we're here to see Lori."
Inspired by Lori and her wild success online, Lincoln and Johnny ran a gaming channel on Twitch. Johnny wanted to do a collab with her because she had so many more followers and they - Lincoln and Johnny - desperately needed some traffic.
"Okay," Lucy sighed, "but first...can you hug me?"
Johnny arched his brow, but he could feel Lucy's puppy dog eyes from behind her bangs, and he was a sucker for puppy dog eyes. "Okay. Fine. But just for -"
Lucy swept him into her arms and squeezed his so tightly that his spine nearly snapped. His eyes bugged from his head and a grunt burst from his throat. Lucy rocked him from side to side, blushing deeply, and Johnny looked at Lincoln. "You better go on without me," he grunted.
K.
Leaving Johnny to it, Lincoln climbed the stairs and went to Lori's room. She sat on the edge of her bed, holding herself, and when she heard him, she jumped a foot. "Lincoln," she hissd, hand going to her chest. "What are you doing here."
"Johnny and I were wondering if you wanted to collab with us on Twitch."
Lori's face went white and she shook. "I-I'm not doing Twitch right now."
Say what? "Why?"
"I have a lot going on right now."
"But -"
"Go away, Lincoln," she snapped. "Leave me alone."
The venom in her voice practically pushed Lincoln into the hall. "Okay, okay, darn," he said.
On his way down the hall, he bumped into Johnny. "Dude, what was that?"
Lincoln shrugged. "I dunno. Lori yelled at me and threw me out of her room."
"Yeah, I heard that." His brows angled down in an angry V and he started rolling up his sleeves. "No one yells at my brother but me." He started down the hallway, but stopped when Lisa popped out of the shadows.
He and Lincoln both screamed and clutched each other.
"I couldn't help but overhear Lori's conduct. While I agree with your outrage, I must urge restraint. Lori, you see, is currently being stalked and isn't handling it very well. She's upset and afraid."
Johnny pushed Lincoln away, his face a mask of concern. "Stalked?"
"Yes."
She told them everything, and as Lincoln listened, anger rose in his chest. He considered Lori his friend and he didn't like it when people messed with his friends. No wonder she snapped at him, he'd be on edge too if some rando from the internet was following him around and sending stuff to his house.
"How do you know all this?" Johnny asked when Lisa was done.
"I have cameras stationed throughout the house," Lisa said, "for research purposes."
Johnny and Lincoln exchanged an uneasy glance.
Okay...weird...but whatever.
"I intend to track down this stalker and give him what for," Lisa said, "as you know, however, I am only a four-year-old. My diminutive stature is neither imposing nor intimidating. I require -"
Holding up his hand, Johnny said, "Say no more, fam. We'll do whatever it takes to put Lori at ease."
"I appreciate it," Lisa said, "if you'd step into my la-bor-a-troy…"
In Lisa's lab, Johnny and Lincoln sat in straight back chairs while Lisa settled in at her computer. Lisa turned to the screen. "I took the liberty of reading one of the cards Lori's stalker sent her. The lack of a return address implies that it was not sent through the post."
"You mean...he put it in the mailbox himself?" Lincoln asked.
"Precisely," Lisa said. "I positioned a camera at the mailbox but he hasn't been back sense. However, I have his IP address and can, using methods not available to the average person, pinpoint his exact location to within several blocks."
She typed something on the keyboard, and a flurry of green text flashed across the screen, making Lincoln dizzy. It finally stopped and he shook his head. "Aha, here. CMB-11 lives in the vicinity of Waterloo Street."
Waterloo Street was four blocks south of Franklin.
"I suspect that he was already aware of Lori prioror to her Twitch career," Lisa said.
"That makes sense," Johnny said.
"If the both of you will be so kind, I would like to conduct a search of sorts this Saturday." Lisa turned in her chair and regarded them. "I don't know how exactly to go about it, but I very much wise to see this matter put to rest. I…" here she faltered and flicked her eyes to her lap. "I don't like how frightened Lori is."
Johnny and Lincoln got up, each laying a comforting hand on one of the little girl's shoulders. "Don't worry, Lise," Johnny said.
"We got your back," Lincoln said.
Lisa offered a wan smile. "Thank you," she said.
"No problem," Lincoln and Johnny said in unison.
Late Saturday morning, Lincoln and Johnny met Lisa at the Loud house, then, together, they walked to Waterloo Street, a residential lane lined with tiny, ultra modern houses. "He lives well," Johnny noted.
The people here were all middle class and had good jobs.
"He certainly does," Lisa said.
First, they walked all of the streets surrounding Waterloo, taking down every address and copying down every last name from every mailbox. Next, they parked their butts on a bench at a bus stop while Lisa consulted her computer. She put in all the raw data they had gathered. In moments, they had the names, titles, and property deeds of everyone in a one mile radius. "CMB was a popular R&B pop group from the early 90s," Lisa said, "but I have a feeling that it might be the stalker's initials."
"CMB's great," Johnny said with a grin. Mom and Dad were huge fans.
"Right?" Lincoln asked. "The 90s didn't all suck."
"Gentleman, gentlemen," Lisa said, "focus. I'm preparing to crunch a very complicated sequence of numbers based on census data, school, police, and civil records, and online tracking. I require absolute silence."
Johnny and Lincoln both zipped their lips.
Lisa's fingers flashed across the keyboard and ranks and ranks of numbers, letters, and pictures flickered over the screen. Johnny kicked his legs and Lincoln twiddled his thumbs. Johnny scratched the back of his neck, and Lincoln watched a line of cars pass in the street. Day-o. Daaaaaay-o. Daylight come and me wan' go home.
Come on, Lise, sheesh.
"Dayo. Daaaaaaayo."
Johnny picked up where Lincoln left off. "Day, me say day, me say day, me say day."
Now together. "Daylight come and me wan' go -"
"SHUT UP!" Lisa roared.
They fell silent.
Five minutes later, or maybe it was five years, Lisa said, "Got it."
"How?"
"I'm not sure, of course," she said and tucked the laptop under her arm, "but I believe I have the culprit."
She led them to a small ranch house on the corner of Johnson and East. At the door, she knocked.
Moments later, a black boy about Johnny and Lincoln's age answered. He may have been as tall as Johnny, but he was hunched over like Quazimodo. His face was peppered with acne and big glasses magnified his fevered eyes. He licked his chapped lips with a long, lizard-like tongue and wrang his hands. "Can I help you?" he asked.
Check it, dude sounded just like Eurkel.
Ew. Who is this creature?
"Clyde McBride?" Lisa asked.
"Yessssssss," he hissed, "that is I."
"Do you know Lori Loud?"
For a moment, Clyde's eyes darted back and forth between his visitors...then he tried to slam the door in their faces. Johnny sprang at him and pushed it back open, and Lincoln grabbed McBride by the front of his shirt. "You're stalking Lori, aren't you?"
"No!" Clyde screeched. "I'm wooing her."
"You sick punk," Johnny said. He grabbed McBride's arm and twisted it behind his back. McBride let out a girlish wail and thrashed weakly in his grasp.
"Listen here, butthead," Lincoln said, "leave our friend alone or you're dead meat."
Tears streamed down McBride's face. "But I love her."
"You're a creep and you're scaring her."
"Nooo, she is my precious."
Johnny slammed McBride into the wall with a crunch of breaking glasses. "We're going to break your legs next."
"NOOOOOOO!"
"Leave Lori alone," Lincoln said. "If I hear you're still stalking her, you're a corpse, got it?"
McBride didn't reply, so Lincoln backhanded him.
"Okay! Okay!" McBride sobbed.
Johnny shoved him away and Lincoln pointed at him. "We're watching you, sicko."
McBride, curled up on the floor, peed himself and started to cry.
"That's that," Lincoln said as he, Johnny, and Lisa walked away.
"I don't think we'll be hearing from him again," Johnny said and dusted his hands
"I hope," Lisa said.
"Don't worry," Lincoln said, "he got the message. Loud and clear."
On the way back to Franklin Ave, they stopped at Carl's Ice Cream and Johnny treated everyone to soft-serve heaven. "I feel badly for McBride," Lisa said. "He's obviously a freak of nature who cannot connect with his peers on a social level."
"He shouldn't be a hunch-back creep then," Johnny said.
And that was that.
After ice cream, they went back to the Loud house. Lori was in her room, wearing a sweater and looking frumpy. Her hair stuck out at weird angels and dark bags hung under her eyes. She paced back and forth, stopping only to peer through the blinds. When they came in, she yelled at them to close the door because "He might see me."
"Lori," Johnny said, "don't worry about him."
"We took care of him," Lincoln added.
Lori stopped. "You did?"
She looked to Lisa for confirmation, and she nodded.
"We beat him up and told him to leave you alone."
Lori let out a shaky breath and sank down on the edge of her bed. "Thank God." She ran one shaky through her hair. "I'm done with Twitch. I don't want to be rich and famous anymore."
"Whoa," Johnny cautioned, "not so fast -"
"No," she said, "it's more stress and trouble than it's worth. I'm done and you two should be done too."
Lori meant it, she was done with Twitch. She was happy to just be her and to play games she loved. She didn't need anyone to watch her.
And after careful consideration, Lincoln and Johnny followed her example. They went over to her house often and played games with her.
They were all they needed.
No one else.
THE END.
