Once upon a time, there was a radical and tubular dude named Lincoln Velazques who loved to play video games. As soon as he got home from school, he threw his backpack off, raced up the stairs, and dropped in front of the TV in his and his brother Johnny's room. There he would stay for hours, playing everything from Call of Honor to Fluffy Animal Town. He considered himself an urbane and widely-played chap whose diversity of taste was second to none. He played everything because video games were life.

Then something changed and it wasn't hard to define.

He got himself a girl and he didn't have the time.

Or the inclination, for that matter. After he met Maggie, video games took a back seat. Like..so back they were practically in the trunk. Every free moment he had went to her: They hung out at the park, stopped in at Gus's Grubs and Games, sat on the curb outside Flip's and slurped Flipeez's until their brains ached, and talked and texted constantly. Giving up gaming wasn't a sacrifice or even a conscious decision, he just did it naturally. Like, hello, you got games on this side and a cute girl who likes you on the other. Which one would you choose?

He was perfectly happy with this arrangement, then something changed and it wasn't -

Eh, forget it. Maggie and her family took a week long road trip to visit her grandparents.

The Pabstvirus was still raging and Gen Zers who packed the beaches for spring break against all logic and common sense were blaming Trump for them getting sick. Biden gave a puzzling speech where he promised to "end the Pabstvirus cure" and school was out for the rest of the year. Why Maggie's parents decided now was the time to drop by and see her frail, seventy-some year old meemaw and pawpaw from beyond Lincoln. What idiots, right?

Okay, that was mean, he was just upset that he wouldn't get to see Maggie for seven whole days.

And just when he was about to man up and hold her hand for the first time.

Sigh.

She, her parents, and her little sister left on a Sunday, and Lincoln walked home with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and his head hung. He was halfway home when something occurred to him.

He could play video games now.

Sweet.

At home, he dropped onto the edge of his bed and reached out to turn the TV on, but stopped.

His and Johnny's X-Station was gone.

"Dude," Lincoln said and turned to his brother, who sat on his bed reading a book. How To Win Over Goff Gurls, read the title. "Where's the game?"

Johnny flipped a page but didn't look up. "You didn't know? Dad has it."

Ugh, of course he did. Dad had been cowering in a toilet paper fort since the pandemic started and only came out to pee, stretch his legs, and make sure Lincoln and Johnny were saying their prayers and taking their vitamins. Spending so much time in there, he got bored. He'd already watched literally every single video on the WWE Network and listened to all of his favorite old school rap songs until he was sick of them. It only made sense that he'd eventually swipe their game system; maybe dads twenty years ago weren't down with the X-Station, but this was 2020, the dads of today were playing the original Steal that Car and Call of Honor religiously.

"What's he playing?" Lincoln asked.

"Steal That Car: Bahrain."

Lincoln rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna know the best part? He modded it so that instead of Achmed, your character is The Big Boss Man."

Lincoln blinked. "Which one?"

"...the wrestler."

"No, I mean which version? Is he dressed in that blue police shirt with the rebel flag on it or the tactical SWAT gear?"

Johnny sat his book in his lap and looked at Lincoln like he was crazy. "I dunno, what does it matter?"

Lincoln shrugged. "The SWAT's kind of cool. And that angle where he fed Al Snow his dog and then beat him up with that billy club...c'mon, you gotta admit…"

Leaning over, Johnny slapped him across the face. "Dude, you just said a wrestler was cool."

Oh, God, he did, didn't he? He started to hyperventilate.

Again, Johnny hit him.

"It hurts so bad but I deserve it," Lincoln moaned.

"Don't go soft on me, bro," Johnny said.

"I'm sorry," Lincoln said, "I-I don't know what came over me." He shook his head as if by doing so he could set his brain right. "I just wanna play a video game, that's all."

Johnny searched his eyes for traces of deception, then relaxed. "I dunno what to tell you. I've been trying for three days to get him to come off it. He's so into it that he threw his Hulk Hogan doll at me the last time I tried."

Oh. Wow. This was serious. That Hogan doll had become Dad's best friend in quarantine. If he was chonking it at people all willy-nilly…

"We're not getting it back anytime soon, are we?" he asked.

Johnny shook his head. "Probably not."

SIGH. Lincoln slumped his shoulders and threw his head back in mourning. "I wanna play video games."

An idea struck him. "I know."

"What?" Johnny asked.

Lincoln got to his feet, went to the window, and knelt down. Outside, Sergio the parrot sunned himself in the tallest branch of an oak tree, his beak covered by a little white surgical mask. Cinnamon, Lincoln's pet rat, perched on the window sill and nibbled at a piece of cracker he found on the floor. On the other side of the street, screened behind the trees, 1216 Franklin Avenue played peekaboo through the foliage. Johnny swung his legs over the side of the bed, shifted to his feet, and came over. "What?" he asked and got down to one knee. He followed Lincoln's line of sight.

"Dude, no."

"Dude, yes," Lincoln said. "They have video games out the wazoo over there."

"They also have, like, twenty people in that house."

Lincoln blinked in confusion. "So? That's never stopped us from going over there before."

Cinnamon shoved the rest of the cracker into his mouth and jumped onto Lincoln's shoulder, where he sat up on his hindlegs and stared Johnny down, as if defying him to cook up a reason they couldn't play video games at the Loud house. Johnny rolled his eyes and shook his head exasperatedly. "Dude...social distancing?"

Oh. Right. The government was telling everyone to keep 6.1 feet away from each other. Lincoln didn't know why they chose 6.1 instead of just going with 6, but they probably had a reason. The government never does anything dumb or unncessary.

That presented a problem, but then again, not really. Only three people had gotten the Pabstvirus in Royal Woods, and two of them were dead, so they should be all good. "We'll be fine," he said and rubbed Cinnamon between the ears with his index finger. "If they look sick, we'll dip out."

Party pooper Johnny opened his mouth to spew rain on Lincoln's parade, but Lincoln didn't give him the chance: He got up and hurried away, Cinnamon jumping into his jacket's breast pocket. Johnny called after him but Lincoln ignored him. He was a man on a mission and nothing was going to stop him.

Then something stopped him.

Specifically, Mom yelling from the kitchen that dinner was ready.

His stomach rumbled.

Okay. He'dgo after eating.

He, Mom, and Johnny sat at the dining room table. Dad ate in his TP fort, the sounds of explosions, gunshots, and Arabic screaming drifting from it as he went on a rampage in Steal That Car. "Don't get one of them paws stuck in your teeth!" he shouted. An explosion followed and he laughed maniacally.

Lincoln looked at Johnny and then his mother, they both shook their heads in consternation.

By the time dinner and clean up were done, it was pushing seven-thirty and the sun had set, leaving the world cast in the soft pall of twilight glow. Lincoln told his mother that he was going out, and slipped out the back door, Johnny right behind him. "I thought you wanted to social distance," Lincoln said smugly.

"I wanna play video games even more," Johnny admitted.

Ha, knew it.

Around front, the streetlamps lining the sidewalks came on one by one and a warm breeze redolent of flowers blew up and down the empty avenue. Normally on such a nice evening, the sounds of laughing children and the smell of succulent barbeques would season the air, but everyone was hiding inside from the Pabstvirus. Gen X and Millenial parents were too afraid to let their kids leave the house, Boomers were at the store panic buying months worth of Metamucil and Bengay, and Zoomers - Lincoln's generation - were locked in their bathrooms and uploading pictures of themselves licking toilet seats to Instagram.

"The van's not there," Johnny pointed out.

Indeed, Mr. Loud's hunk o' junk wasn't in the driveway, but lights blazed in the first story windows. "Well...someone's there," Lincoln said.

They crossed the street and climbed the steps. Lincoln whipped a switchblade from his and pressed a button: A comb popped out and he ran it through his hair to make himself more presentable. He and Johnny were going to have to con Mr. and Mrs. Loud into letting them in and you can't work someone if you look like a deranged slob. He knocked and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He knocked again, louder this time. When no one answered, he went to the front window, cupped his hands to his face, and peered in.

The Loud sisters sat together on the couch and faced straight ahead like statues, Leni, Luna, Luan, Lynn, Lucy, Lana, Lola, Lisa, and Lily, biggest to littlest like a line of Russian nesting dolls. He didn't see Lori anywhere, maybe she was upstairs pooping?

Lincoln balled his fist and banged on the glass, but none of them turned to look at him. "Hey," he said. "Someone's at your door."

Nothing.

Really? Wow. Just wow.

Kind of mad now, Lincoln pushed away from the window and tried the knob.

It was open.

He opened the door and walked in, Johnny bringing up the rear. 'Seriously?" Lincoln asked.

The Loud girls kept on staring at the TV, which, strangely, wasn't on. None blinked, none moved, none even so much as breathed.

It was kind of creepy.

"Hello?" he asked.

No reply.

Alright, this was getting ridiculous. He walked over to the couch and stood before them, his hands going sternly to his hips, looking so much like his mom when she was getting ready to lay down the law that Johnny snorted. "What's with you guys?" he asked. "I knocked on your door, I knocked on your window, I walked in like I own the place - what gives?"

Lola bared her teeth and hissed something that he couldn't make out. "What was that, Princess?" Lincoln asked. "I'm not good enough for a normal tone, you gotta whisper?"

She repeated herself. Lincoln leaned in and cupped his hand to his ear with a flourish.

Johnny slapped him in the back of the head. "Dude, stop acting like Hulk Hogan."

Lola's eyes flashed icily. "Help...us…" she said.

Before Lincoln could process her words, a shadow fell over him from behind. He and Johnny both spun on their heels to face whatever horror had befallen the Louds. Lincoln expected Leatherface, Jason Voorhees, or even The Harvester, but what confronted him was even worse. It was tall and stony, its eyes hidden behind the dark lenses of Aviator sunglasses. A green coat clung to its form like reptilian skin. It was...it was…

It was Lori.

"What are you two doing here?" she demanded.

Lincoln's eyes flickered to the riding crop in her hand.

Uh-oh. Lori was babysitting again.

The oldest of the Loud brood, Lori had always been put in charge of her sisters when her parents left the house. She responded by becoming a totalitarian strongwoman who'd sooner disappear you than look at you. Her sisters called her Queen of No behind her back and dreaded being left with her, because the moment their parents were gone, Lori shut everything down. Her rules were as follows:

No TV.

No music.

No snacking.

No moving.

No talking.

And, most importantly of all, no video gaming.

Darn it.

But see, Lori liked video games. A lot. She had an epic set up in her bedroom and spent loads of time pwning noobs on it while chatting with her boyfriend Bobby on Discord. She had a gaming server with 10,000 members that was one of the most well known and respected in the video game community. Lincoln really wanted to join it but she had a strict rule: No one under sixteen. He created an alt to get in, but she figured out it was him almost immediately and swung the ban hammer. When he asked her how she knew, she rolled her eyes. You used The Rock as your profile picture.

I was trying to swerve you, he said, since I don't like wrestling.

Sure you don't, Lincoln.

Her basically calling him a wrestling fan made him so mad that he stormed off, hotter than Jim Cornette after a three hour creative meeting with Vince Russo and Eric Bischoff. "Uh, hey, Lori," he said, "how, uh, how's it going?"

Lori crossed her arms and fixed him with a glare.

Faster than you can say put on ice, Lincoln and Johnny were wedged between Lana and Lola, their hands on their laps. "Come on, Lori," Lincoln said. "I just wanna play a few rounds of -"

"No," Lori said.

"But -"

"No, Lincoln," she said more firmly. "I'm in charge and when I'm in charge, we sit on the couch, stare into space, and then go to bed."

Ugh.

"You're so boring."

So quick Lincoln almost missed it, Lori slapped the riding crop against the table with a whip-crack report that made everyone jump. "Boring is a good thing, Lincoln," she said, "boring doesn't destroy the house."

"We don't destroy the house," Luna argued.

Lori cocked her eyebrow. "Okay," Luna said, "one time."

"Yeah," Leni said, "we can, like, totes not go crazy this time."

Luan spoke up next. "Just give us a chance."

"We promise we won't destroy the house," Lola swore.

Everyone else voiced their agreement, even Lily, who slapped her bare feet and let out an impassioned Poo-poop. Lori stood up straight and crossed her arms, her lips pursing incredulously. "Look, Lori," Lincoln said, "all of your sisters are older now. Sure, Lynn plays football in the house sometimes, and yeah, Luan might prank the place into the Stone Age here and there, but I'm sure they can all keep it together. Right, guys?"

"Yeah!" the Loud girls said in unison.

Johnny looked at Lori. "You don't have to do the dictator routine anymore. Everyone knows you go hard. Give them a chance and if they act a fool, throw the book at them." He turned left and right. "None of you guys want that, right?"

"No!"

"So are you gonna give Lori a hard time if she loosens up?"

"No!"

Johnny looked up at Lori and spread his hands. "There you have it."

The oldest Loud girl scrunched her lips from side to side in contemplation and drummed her fingers on her arm. Suspense hung thick in the air, and everyone leaned forward in anticipation of her reply. "Every time I pull back," she said, "these psychopaths -"

"Hey!" the sisters in question said.

" - go completely nuts and literally ruin the house. That reflects poorly on me. I don't want to be a dictator, but they leave me no choice."

"When's the last time you pulled back?" Johnny asked.

Lori opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. "Hmmm. A year or two, I think."

"Well, there you go," Johnny said. "It's been a while. Things have changed."

Lincoln looked around. "You guys have learned your lesson, right?"

"Yeah!"

Returning his attention to Lori, Lincoln called upon all the hustle powers he had. "Just give it a shot. I know you don't like doing this. I know you'd much rather be playing video games right now instead. All you have to do is have a little faith in your sisters."

Lori tapped her chin with her index finger.

"Just a little faith."

She let out a pent up breath. "Fine. I'll pull back."

Everyone erupted into cheers. Leni excitedly fisted her hands, Lana and Lola high fived, Lynn jumped to her feet and thrusted her hips back and forth in an end zone victory dance, and Lily slapped her feet.

"But if you so much as spill one drink or leave one crumb," Lori cautioned, "I will come down on you like Judgement Day."

"We won't," Lynn said.

"Promise," Lana added.

For a moment, Lori glared at them to drive her point home, then tossed the riding crop over her shoulder and started upstairs. "Alright. Come on, we're playing Modern Warfare."

Lincoln and Johnny bumped fists and followed Lori upstairs. In her room, the last on the left before the bathroom, they sat on the foot of her bed, Lori in the middle. Shelves crammed with game systems lined the walls, and posters for Legend of Zelda, Super Mario 64, and other classic games stared down at them. A desk sitting under the window boasted a gaming PC with every attachment and add-on you could imagine. Lori took her hobby very seriously and even hosted streams of herself playing. Don't tell anyone, but she was a semi-popular YouTuber whose highest viewed video recently cracked one million. A lot of guys, Lincoln suspected, only watched because she was attractive and a gamer, a combination you don't often find in girls. Imagine being that big of a socially maladjusted creeper.

Leaning over and switching her Play-Box on, Lori handed a controller to Lincoln and Johnny each and took one for herself. The main menu appeared onscreen and Lori pressed start. "You guys ready?"

"So ready," Johnny said.

"It's been forever since I played a video game," Lincoln said.

"Because you spend all your time with Maggie," Johnny said.

The game started, screen split three ways. "How are you and Maggie?" Lori asked. "Lucy said she's really into you."

Lincoln blushed. "We're good. She's on a road trip now and I...I kind of miss her."

"Aww," Lori said. Onscreen, her character turned to Lincoln's and shot him in the head. "That should make you feel better."

Lincoln's jaw dropped, then his eyes narrowed. "Oh, so that's how it is?"

For the next hour, Lincoln, Lori, and Johnny picked through the ruins of a bomb-blasted city and took potshots at each other. Lincoln crouched behind a shattered wall and sniped Johnny and Lori every time they passed, forcing them to team up and take him out with grenades. "Take that, freaking camper," Johnny said and jammed his finger into Lincoln's forehead.

Lincoln threw out his elbow and hit Johnny in the ribs. "You're gonna lose that finger if you keep it up."

While they were arguing, Lori's character sneaked up behind theirs and cut each one's throat with a knife. "Ha,' she said, "get rekt."

"That's not fair!" Johnny cried.

"Yeah," Lincoln echoed, "we were arguing."

"Yeah, in the middle of a warzone," Lori said. "Next time wait until you're back in your barracks."

After the last round where Lori hunted them down like animals and cut them to ribbons with her AK, she turned off the TV and stood up. "Let's go see how the others are doing."

They went downstairs.

At the bottom step, Lori froze.

"OH MY GOD!"

How were the others doing? Heh, not good. Mud, crumbs, and spilled drinks littered the floor. The couch and coffee table were both overturned, the TV lay on its side, sticky splatters of god only knows what spackled the walls, and heaps of toys, books, and dirty clothes were piled here and there like rubble. The fire alarm suddenly went off, and the smell of burning found Lincoln's nose. Luan came out of the kitchen, covered in flour, whipped cream, and other things, and a cloud of smoke rolled after her. "I burned my pies," she said mournfully.

Lana crouched behind the coffee table and Lola the couch. They popped up and shot at each other with Super Soakers. Lana's stream hit Lincoln in the eye and he howled. It wasn't water...it was apple juice. "MY EYE!"

In the corner, Luna stood atop a giant amp and shredded her guitar and Leni drew on the walls, stopping to admire her work. Lily crawled past in a full diaper, and Lisa stood over a broken test tube, its contents eating through the floor. "It wasn't supposed to be that corrosive," she said when Johnny cocked his eyebrow.

Lynn rode by on a dirt bike (with no helmet, I might add), and Lucy sat quietly in the darkness of the fireplace and read.

Rubbing his eyes, Lincoln looked up at Lori. Her face was red and clenched, one eye twitching and her shoulders rising and falling with the rhythmic flare of her nostrils. Her hands balled into fists and she began to shake like a tea kettle on a hot stove.

Uh-oh.

Fire in her eyes, teeth sharp as razors, Lori let out a thunderous bellow that resounded through the house and stopped everyone in their tracks. "LOOK AT THIS HOUSE!"

Quick as lightning, she took off. She snatched Lynn off the dirt bike and shoved her into the wall; she grabbed Lola's Super Soaker and broke it over her knee, making Lincoln wince; she plucked the crayon from Leni's hand and snapped it; she ripped the cord out of Luna's amp, then chewed it madly between her teeth; she took one of Luan's pies and slammed it into the joker's face; she grabbed Lana by the back of her shirt and spun, then let go - Lana flew into the dining room, screaming at the top of her lungs; she started to go after Lucy, but stopped, "You're actually fine.'

Finally she stood over Lincoln and Johnny, huffing and puffing like Sandy when Patrick and Spongebob woke her up from hibernation. Lincoln and Johnny hugged each other and shook in terror. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"NO!" Lincoln and Johnny cried in unison.

"NOW YOU'RE GOING TO PAY."

Five minutes later, she handed Lincoln and Johnny cleaning supplies. "Clean everything," she commanded.

"What about the people who actually made the mess?" Johnny asked.

"I'll deal with them."

The kitchen was caked with food and littered with trash. Lincoln scrubbed the sink, counters, and walls while Johnny picked up the trash, swept, did the dishes, and mopped. Next, they joined the Loud girls in picking up the living room. They all worked in grim sillence while Lori kept watch from the sidelines, her arms crossed over her chest. When they were finished, she sent Lincoln and Johnny to clean the upstairs bathroom "just because."

UGH.

"I'm actually shocked they did this," Johnny said as he cleaned the toilet.

"Yeah," Lincoln agreed, "I guess Lori was right."

Done, they went downstairs and came to a halt. The Loud girls were bunched on the couch as they had been earlier, only this time they were wrapped in duct tape, a strip covering each one's mouth. Lori glowered at them. "You have proven to me tonight that you can't handle me pulling back, so if you thought I was bad before, just wait: You'll be begging for the old Lori back."

All of her sisters shot Lincoln and Johnny dirty looks.

"We're not the bozos who tore down the house," Johnny said.

"We know how to act like we have some sense."

Lori turned to them, and they shrank back. "As for you two clowns, I called your parents."

Lincoln's heart dropped. "What?"

Lori cracked an evil smile. "Bye."

The whole way back home, Lincoln and Johnny worried over what punishment they would receive. Would Dad make them watch wrestling until their eyes bled? Would Mom force them to antique every Saturday for the rest of their lives?

No, it was even worse.

Mom took every electronic device away from them. No phone, no TV, not even comic books. "We didn't even do anything," Johnny argued.

And that comment earned them an early bedtime.

"Stupid Lori," Lincoln grumbled as he lay in bed.

"Yeah," Johnny said, "but at least we're not related to her."

Both of them shuddered.

Lincoln would hate being a Loud.

"Who knows," Johnny said, "maybe in an alternate universe, you are."

Lincoln laughed.

But that night...he had a nightmare that he was.

And he hated it.