And now, the moment we've all been waiting for:
--Chapter Ten
"It's all over, Angus DeFrag. You and your entire race will be wiped out in a few short seconds."
"Not exactly," said Angus to Fatal Error, who still stood in the doorway with the pair of scissors, "96 of the land mines have been deactivated. So only relatively minor damage will be done."
Fatal laughed. "Not so, my byte-brained adversary." Tired of standing, Fatal leaned against one of the machines in the communications center. He was completely unaware of the fact that when he did this, he pressed the Emergency Broadcast System button at the same time. Now his voice could be heard throughout the Monitor, Inthole, and other devices as he laid out his plan for Angus.
So all of the 99 land mines heard their leader as he said, "You see, Mr. DeFrag, I've wired all of the land mines up so that even after deactivation, they can still explode. That way, I can make sure there aren't any surviving mines to annoy me later. I gotta tell you, those mines were starting to get on my nerves. They're all idiots! No good for anything except exploding and making a huge blast of it, too. Then the only ones left alive will be that girlfriend of yours, Brenda, and myself. Yes, Brenda will make a lovely Femme Fatale, don't you think? Hahaha! She'll never guess that the right space on the board is in the middle of the nine squares left! And as for you, janitor, I think it's now time I showed you why I'm called Fatal." Fatal pulled out a syringe. "It's my latest virus," he said, "And it's waiting for you."
Angus walked backwards as the Rogue Int advanced on him, until DeFrag found himself cornered. Angus had never dealt with a guy like Fatal before; that type of job was usually left for the soldier ints of the inthole. But Angus did know a thing or two about hand to hand combat; he remembered the days when he'd pretend his broom was a karate bo staff as he tapped into the music department to listen to "Kung Fu Fighting."
The janitor adeptly batted the virus from Fatal's grasp, at which point Angus turned the tables on our villain, so to speak.
"Take that! And that! And one of these, too!"
--
"Hmm, the space in the middle. Thanks, whoever said that!" Brenda had heard Fatal's speech, even though she couldn't recognize the voice for whatever reason. She now jumped on the space in the middle. When she didn't hear an explosion, she looked down. She saw a giant black 8 on the space. "YES! WOOHOO! I did it! Hey, Smiley, I did it! All of the other bombs are flagged. We won!"
Smiley looked at her coolly through his sunglasses. "Believe me, I know. Wow, these are nice glasses. Won't see these again for a while. Hey, thanks, little int friend."
Brenda imitated Gus's smile on her own face. "Don't mention it," she said. "Now, who was that on the loudspeaker calling me a 'Femme Fatale?'"
--
Angus and Fatal were currently rolling about the floor in an all-out struggle, each with his hands around the other's throat. As they rolled out of the room and down some stairs, Fatal's palm pilot fell from his trenchcoat pocket. The micro-micro-computer smashed into pieces on the floor below, and all of the locks on the monitor were suddenly removed.
Then Fatal pulled a dirty trick—after all, is there a time when he doesn't pull a dirty trick?—and flung Angus over him and down the stairs. Fatal got up to finish the job, when ninety-nine landmines came up the stairs the other way. On instinct, Fatal ran back into the communication center to try and escape the army of mines. Then he found out, much to his dismay, that there was only one door leading in and out of the room; he was doomed.
"Only one exit?" Fatal yelled, dropping his cigarette for the last time in a long time, "That doesn't meet fire code! This Monitor is a deathtrap! Who in the world would design such a place?"
The author of this story, that's who.
"Oh, you shut up, Human."
The name's Aetre, and I don't appreciate you telling me to shut up, thank you very much. Now I'm afraid I'm gonna have to kill you.
The bombs entered through the doorway, Big Oliver leading the group, his hand-like features in fists.
"Let's get him!" he yelled.
Fatal shivered at the thought of being beaten by an angry mob of land mines. He knew he had lost, and he knew that this time, it was permanent. Determined to end it all painlessly, he reached for the syringe he had brought into the building.
"Well, I hope this virus works as quickly as I designed it to," he said. But because this is my story, and because I want to end the fic on a comical note, the virus didn't work. Nor did the land mines kill him.
Angus DeFrag saved Fatal's life from the mob of mines and the fanfiction author by yelling "STOP!" just as Oliver was about to do his thing. All of the mines looked at the janitor as he made his way to the front of the crowd.
Angus faced the entire army and shouted out, "Sure, we could kill him, but I've got a better idea…"
--
Ints A and B sit at stools in The Motherboard. Once again, Int B is eating a sandwich.
Int A: Say, Joey.
Int B: Yeah, what?
Int A: Y'know how all of these new people have been walking around the inthole lately? The land mines, the flags, and that little smiley face guy named Gus?
Int B: What about them?
Int A: Well, y'know, I've been thinking about how they've all been cut off from the Minesweeper program and welcomed here as members of our society. And I think to myself, what happens now if the Human turns on the computer and wants to play Minesweeper? He can't very well play it without any bombs or flags or smiley face, can he?
Int B: That's a silly question! Everybody knows that all of the characters have been replaced by inanimate pixel drawings on the Monitor screen.
Int A: True, but wouldn't that ruin the object of the game? What's the point if there's no real character to wear the sunglasses at the end of the game?
Int B: Ah, but that's the best part of all: now the objective of the game isn't to make Smiley wear the glasses, it's to blow him up!
Int A: I don't understand.
Int B: Y'know that int in the trench coat, Fatal Error? He's imprisoned behind the Minesweeper board, hooked up to ninety-nine electrodes, all attached to land mines on the screen. So whenever the Human blows up the smiley face, he gives Fatal Error a painful electric shock. And the Human enjoys doing it very much.
Int A: Oh, I get it! So that's why the Human keeps clicking on all those land mines every time he plays Minesweeper.
Int B: Why, yes it is. At least, that's his story and he's sticking to it.
--End chapter ten
A message from the author, Aetre:
And that, my friends, is why I wrote this story: to explain to the world why I can never seem to win at Minesweeper. No, seriously, I wrote this because I saw the category on the website, and I got curious. I hope you enjoyed this fic, especially because it's my first article to make it to the Internet in more than three years.
I have enjoyed reading all of your reviews, especially since they've all been good ones, and I'd like to thank all of you for having the good sense not to write a flame review for a PG-rated article.
As to those of you interested in a sequel, I welcome any fellow-authors to continue the saga at their own leisure. They may write a sequel, for I most certainly will not. Sorry, but sooner or later, we all have to admit that there's more to life than fanfics on Minesweeper. I'll be moving on to other things. But before I leave the imaginary world of the inthole forever, I'll leave you with this epilogue. Bye now, and come see me soon!
--Epilogue
Queen Pentium III, tired after a long session's work, issued the day's final orders to Sergeant McAfee.
"McAfee," she called wearily, "I've received the order from the Human to shut down for the day."
"Yes, your majesty," McAfee answered her, "I'll see to it we shut down properly."
As he was about to leave the throne room to issue the orders to the workers, the queen said, "McAfee, one more thing: what scheduled tasks do we have for the next time the computer turns on?"
"Why, there's nothing on the schedule except the Honors Ceremony for Angus DeFrag and Brenda Presario, those two worker ints who saved the whole colony."
"Ah, yes. Now I remember."
McAfee smiled lightly. For a Pentium, the queen sure was a forgetful creature. He added, "Next week, I understand they're getting married. We've all been invited to the wedding."
"Oh, good. I'm happy for them." The queen yawned and then said, "Do you think, McAfee, that there's a purpose to our work in this computer? Is it all for nothing, or are we really doing something important, living our little lives day in and day out?"
McAfee took his best shot at answering the question. "I don't know, your majesty, what all of our work amounts to, but what I do know is that it can amount to more if I just do what I can on my own. We can live our little lives, as you put it, conscious of what it does for ourselves and those around us. And when everybody works together, the society works like a well-oiled machine. And when there's a person out there like Fatal Error, trying to destroy that society, that's all the more reason to work together to stop him. That's what I think our accomplishments mount up to: a better machine, and a better way of life."
The queen had closed her eyes, and was about to fall asleep. In a sleepy voice, and with a kind smile on her face, she said, "Thank you. Go issue the command now, McAfee. Sergeant dismissed."
McAfee saluted her and walked out the door. Seconds later, the final message appeared on the screen, with new meaning now that Fatal Error had been stopped:
"It is now safe to turn off your computer."
The End
