I’m not giving up yet. Not now that I know how to play.
I race through the stores— more grenades, more arrows, extra batteries for the laser guns, and after much rumination, I trade in the mage staff for a Santa Claus fat suit from the Custom Costume shop.
I have my reasons.
I’m on a mission now to haul Wyn Salvador’s sorry butt back home so I can swear at him in person and make him grovel for mercy.
I go back to the portal, arm myself, and start over.
This time around I kill off the sharks, plants, and snake with speed and efficiency. I’m nowhere near as anxious on this run because I know what to expect. It’s still pretty terrifying, of course, but I just keep repeating my mantra whenever the fear starts to take over: It’s just a game, it’s just a game, it’s just a game . . .
I take down the pterodactyls even faster this time, and when the last one slams onto the bridge, I’m ready for it. I equip the Santa suit with lightning speed and let out a victorious “HO HO HO!” as I careen toward the granite cliff, waiting for my fat suit to cushion the impact.
I bounce a few times off the wall like a big red Super Ball, and I let out a laugh, wishing Chang and Moose were here to see this amazing Christmas miracle.
I stop laughing when I hear a SNAP above me. I’m so heavy in the fat suit I’ve ripped the bridge off its moorings at the top of the cliff.
Down we go, bridge and all, straight into the boiling lava.
I don’t yell this time when I wake up in the Landing. Instead, I allow myself to daydream about all the things I will say to Wyn Salvador when I find him. They are very unpleasant things, things which should never ever be uttered aloud, lest you be struck dead by whichever God is currently on duty. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.
Once again I run through the Landing and restock, occasionally muttering at the strolling Meeple in their natural-fiber Winter Solstice wear. They just smile at me and continue strolling, presumably filled with the spirit of the Winter Goddess or Nature or something Peaceful and Seasony. In contrast, I am filled with rage, which I try to channel into cold, hard determination. I open my storage locker to trade the damn Santa suit for my mage staff, but in my haste I access the potato gun instead. What the hell? I think, leaving it in my inventory. Maybe it’ll bring me luck, like Moose says, and God knows I’m ready for some.
This time, I kill the sharks before they know I’m there. The man-eating plants are toast after the first whoosh; the anaconda doesn’t even have time to slither. I make sure to shoot the five wheeling pterodactyls at the three-o’clock or nine-o’clock positions, so they fall straight into the lava and stay away from my bridge.
Finally, the lava gorge dissolves to white.
Victory at last. I stand still for a few minutes, allowing plenty of time to prep myself for the next room. I’ve already blown my “Nixy Bauer, Home in an Hour” 5K bonus, so the extra time doesn’t make a difference anymore. Besides, this is the fourth room, the room where the MEEP-O Men before me died a thousand deaths before giving up in defeat. I’m determined to win this one the first time through, as a point of pride. Also, I’ll scream if I wake up in the Landing one more time.
I equip myself with an oak shield and a razor-sharp Gladius sword. Just before I push the yellow button to the next room, I swallow down the pricey speed potion I acquired just for this purpose.
The whiteness turns into a golden haze, and it takes me a moment to get my bearings. I’m in a desert, melting hot, and the sun shines brightly into my eyes. I spin around in a circle to mark the location of my foes. “Just like the three bears,” Dad had said on the plane, “and you’re Goldilocks,” he added, while we were strategizing my attack. I laughed at the time and said I hoped they served a decent porridge, but it doesn’t seem nearly as funny now. Bears would be a welcome sight.
Giant Scorpions? Not so much.
I see them now, right where they’re supposed to be. Papa is at four o’clock, shiny and black and the