A rock and a hard place

This week, I played a game that saved my life.

It was a dark night. The stars were smothered by the sodium-lit clouds and the rain had flushed the vermin from the street. It was a quiet night. I kept on walking, a silhouette against the bright shop fronts, welcoming the shadows of the houses. Passing homeward-bound, amorous couples after their nights out, I kept on, steadfast. I couldn’t afford to be late.

My contact was to meet me outside the office, come rain or shine. That’s what we’re paying him for. We don’t call him Timmy the Squirrel for nothing. Two unremarkable, grey streets later and I was under the cover of the arch and past the gates. Leaning on the wall, towards the end of the tunnel, I saw him. He’s well known around these parts as the go-to guy for news. You don’t mess with him, or you’ll find your face plastered around town. As I got closer, the light from the courtyard highlighted his trademark stripy jumper and the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. Only it wasn’t a cigarette. It was a maoam.

“Here’s your latest shipment”, that familiar voice squeaked, as he handed me a box. “Payment’ll be as usual” I replied, stuffing the box into my coat pocket, away from prying eyes. I didn’t want to be caught carrying such a risky package. Not since my predecessor Ricky the Flounder was found floating in the Thames. He couldn’t live up to his name.

I bid the Squirrel farewell. What I didn’t tell him is that I’d be rocking all night long with that little box of his and I couldn’t wait to get back to my desk to try out the goods. He doesn’t need to hear about my night-life. He has enough snitches to do that for him.

I turned back into the rain, retracing my steps. The streets were cold, but the night was warm as I hurried my way back to the apartment, staying away from sight.

My apartment door was still locked and the seals hadn’t been broken. I was safe. I sat down at my desk, turned on my computer and poured out a glass of cheap whisky. Once my computer had booted, I pulled the package out from my jacket. It took me years to find it. Stone Quarry Simulator. The genuine article.

After a quick installation, my night’s pleasure was ready. No need for those Marilyn Monroe impersonators tonight.

I started with the basics, jumping into a large truck with a couple of saw-blades stuck on the front. I’ve never driven one of these machines before, but it should be easy. Straight into the water. Darn it. Next try. I rammed into the wall, like a sailor away on shore-leave, into a call-girl, drilling away. Rocks flew everywhere and the ground shook beneath me.

My next task was to pack the van with dynamite. Needless to say, after the unfortunate ice-cream van explosion that took out the Mysterious Brown, I’m well-versed in packing vehicles full of explosives. I drove to thetarget and drilled into the rock. There was no instruction manual for the pneumatic drill, so that was an interesting and unproductive initial 5 minutes. With the explosives packed into the holes and covered up like a shallow grave, I drove the van over the explosives. Detonator in hand, I saw a warning about my vehicle being too close to the dynamite. It was too late to stop the explosion.

It seems they make these vans out of metal stronger than that in ice-cream vans, as my get-away vehicle was untouched. And floating above the ground.

Growing tired of being told what to do, I decided to start my career in rock pushing. My first task was to buy a quarry. With100,000 bucks spent on a piece of land, I started my life, poorer than the bums you see on the street. My secretary handed me a note - collect 120kg of armorstone for an anonymous buyer. Ten minutes of drilling and transporting later, the shipment was complete. My pay was wired over to me. 2000$. Sixty more jobs like that and I can buy a new quarry. No thanks. I’m not a shmuck. This line of work aint for me. I’d only go down this route if I was looking for a slow and grinding lifestyle, that is quite easy and almost the definition of repetitive.

Fine, that first sentencemight’ve been a lie.

Next week’s choices are Bridge Project (“Planning - Construction - Testing”) and Police Force (“Combat city crime and experience law enforcement like never before!”). Let the voting begin - games.felix@imperial.ac.uk