Chapter Six

The computers were lined up, the mice were clicking, the fingers were tapping. Eyes were glued to monitors the way children were mesmerized the first time they saw fireworks. The room was otherwise silent. There was a heavy intensity in the air - not the type of intensity that you felt when you watched a horror movie, it was the type of intensity that you felt when you were observing a game of chess between two masters. But then Terrence screamed and broke the silence.

"MotherFUCKER, get that fatass fucking Reaver out of my FUCKING base please!"

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It was a unique gathering for the Karen house, being that few previous social activities of theirs have demanded such focus of its members. But for some reason or another, their entire house - Sam, Mike, Gorav and Mubi - had decided to start playing the decade old computer game of Starcraft several days ago, and Terrence, being close to all the house members, was sucked into the fad.

Terrence had been a competitive player in real time strategy games before, and was thus a little unnerved by the low standards of his friends' playing. "Nubs", he would call them. But Terrence also realized that the intrigue of LAN parties wasn't necessarily the competitive aspect of the game, rather, it was the anticipation of the twisted reactions on other players' faces when you pulled off sneaky tactical moves on them. So with that understanding in mind, Terrence correctly predicted Mike's second Reaver drop and promptly killed off that fat slug before it could do any more damage to his base.