Oh my. It appears that he is on fire.
As I mentioned previously, the NBA Jam playing in my apartment is getting out of hand. Ken and I have found that it is the one game where we are pretty much evenly matched – in Street Fighter, I just kick his ass. In Mortal Kombat, he does that fucking “Kano unblockable spin of death move” until I die. Even with Scorpion, I’m no match for his cheap fighting style.
And forget about the Xbox 360. It sits on the shelf, an unused $400 pile of electronics, waiting for when I start riding the rollers again and I use it to watch downloaded cross races. Or when I come back from 5 hour rides in the winter, sit on the couch, and kill zombies while eating a steak and cheese sub.
But for now, Sega Genesis rules the house. When I play Ken, we usually try to close the windows, so his expletive infused screams of defeat do not echo up and down Maple Street, causing our neighbors to think that someone is being murdered. Why someone being murdered would be screaming “SHOOT THE FUCKING J!” is beyond me, but when there is a solid eight minutes of screaming, our neighbors probably thinks something is up. It really infuriates him when I sink six threes a game with Hakeem Olajuwon…or when I constantly block shots in a way he considers goaltending.
Also, Austin has also joined us in playing, and we are excited about the possibility of adding NBA Jam quotes to our conversational repertoire during Balloon Fest. I just need to figure out when it’s appropriate to scream “IS IT THE SHOES!?”.
We all know that your goaltending is bullshit, Ryan. Everyone knows you’re flat-out cheating with your goddamn Olajuwon three pointer bullshit.
SHOOT THE J.