It doesn’t come.
Instead, what walks out of the jungle is the most adorable baby kitten in the world. Its fur is tabby-orange, and its body trails rainbow colors like a magic cape made of light. Its eyes are anime-big and shine green like innocent emeralds. The cat pads out of the jungle, looks at the Bros, curls its tiny tail around little kitten legs, and cocks its precious head. “Mrowr?”
“I love her so much!” squeaks Pepper. “I want to hug her and pet her and call her Pickle!”
“Look how cute it is!” One of the Bros awws. “Come here, little fella!”
As he walks toward it, I stick out a hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
“Cram it, Skid Row.” He shoves me out of the way and walks to the kitten, which rubs its adorable body around his ankle, trailing rainbows. “Who’s a good little boy?” He picks the rainbow cat up and it cuddles against his face. “Who’s a good boy? You are! You are!”
The cat rubs its face against his. As it does, its paw produces something round and metal.
A pineapple grenade.
“Mrowr?” It pulls the pin.
BOOM! The Bro detonates in an explosion that rips him into a hundred flying pieces of spaghetti. Our entire party is blown backward and we hit the dirt. I throw up my Shellshock shield, which protects me from the blast, but a piece of shrapnel nicks me as it flies by.
Health: 94%
Only a smoking hole remains where the Bro once was. Through the smoke, another five kittens emerge, each cuter than the last. An alert flashes over them.
Nyanmite C4ts lvl 3 Grenadiers
Weaponized for cuteness, these adorable little critters love cuddles, disco, and kamikaze missions right up your pants. Equipped with irresistible eyes, fluffy ears, and Comp C grenades, C4ts make great housepets that clean up after themselves… with fire. Warning: That sound you hear isn't a purr, it's a fuse.
“Wipe ‘em out! Let’s f§cking gooo!” yells a Bro and opens fire with his machine gun. He hits a C4t and the little guy detonates in an explosion that sends the others flying. Spinning in midair like adorable ninjas, two cats chuck their grenades at him. He shoots one out of the air, but the other smacks against his chest. BOOM! He’s tree paint.
The other Bros open fire and riddle the jungle with bullets, lasers and blasts of energy. One of them throws some kind of magic device called Thornado that whips into a sudden whirlwind of thorns that shreds everything in its path like the Tasmanian Devil with a buzzsaw. When the smoke clears, the air is rife with shredded leaf parts, but there are no C4ts.
“Did we get them?” pants UMadBro.
“Morwr?”
I turn around and see a dozen more cats on the ridge above us. As one, they pull the pins and drop their grenades.
“Run!” I grab Pepper and sprint up the path as fire scorches the air behind me. I’m not sure who gets blown up, but I catch another lick of shrapnel in my back that stings like hell.
Health: 58%
I sprint up the mountain with Pepper in my arms, wondering how long I can survive against these things. I don’t have any weapons, my MacHack skill is useless, and neither the A-Team nor the Goonies is going to help me. Evade +5 lights up in my HUD and I decide running is a really good option.
One of the C4ts comes out of the jungle in front of us, cute as a button. I swear I want to cuddle it and feed it Friskies—until it pulls a grenade. In my arms, Pepper yells, “No!” and her eyes light up hot pink.
Goldfish Mode
The C4t’s eyes go white like it just got hit with the biggest case of cataracts ever. Its brain shuts off, its arms fall limp at its sides, and the grenade drops from its paw.
BOOM! The explosion goes off behind us as I dash up the path.
“They’re everywhere!” I hear somebody yell behind us. I glance back to find a Bro screaming like a pigtailed girl. “We’re never going to—” A C4t jumps on him and snuggles its way inside his shirt. “—Aiiii!” BOOM!
I get sprayed with his blood and guts. My clothes are dripping with what remains of the guy, and I’m still trying to figure out whether I’m terrified or just grossed out when my HUD blinks.
EmpathyEngine?: Sorry For Your Loss
Sympathize with your teammates when they die! Character death can cause trauma, losing credits can be upsetting, and your calm encouragement will help them want to continue gaming for weeks and months to come. Staaay positive!
“We’re f§cked!” I yell.
“There are too many of them!” UMadBro shouts. The dead Bros respawn back by the Fume Reaper trap, but it will take time for them to catch up. “What do we do?”
“The saferoom!” I holler back. “Get to the saferoom!”
“Where the hell is it?!” shouts Brocodile.
I check my Copperpot map as I run. The saferoom is about 400 yards up the mountain. There’s not much between here and there except a bunker marked Magazine. Maybe we can hole up there, heal up, and make an actual plan to make sure I don’t die today.
“Wait!” Brocodile points at me. “He’s a LivingLegend! They’ve got Drama Dials! Crank him up!!”
Drama Dials? I vaguely remember that from the tutorial, but I don’t remember what it was for. I get the feeling I’m about to find out as UMadBro twists something on my back and I see my HUD flash red.
LivingLegend Drama Dial!
One of your teammates increased your LivingLegend Adjustable Aggro setting to *Maximum*. You have been designated by [Trainwreck Bros] as: Meat Shield. You will now draw +300% of all attacks. Thank you for protecting your teammates! You’re the real hero here!
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“What the hell, man?” I yell at UMadBro.
“Better you than me, brah!” He yells back. “Run!”
Rainbow light-trails bounce all over the jungle like LSD tracers. C4ts are everywhere. They swing from trees, slide down hills, bound through the brush, or just lick themselves. Most of their grenades get hucked in my direction, and the only thing that saves me is my Evade skill, which is barely enough to keep me one step ahead of the explosions.
I don’t stop to look, but I can hear the C4ts closing in behind me. It sounds like a hundred curious kittens are hot on my trail and closing in fast.
HEY YOU GUYS!
My Goonies trap detector spots a tripwire up another path. I run for it, leap over the trigger, and depend on my Evade as the pack of Nyanmite C4ts hits the tripwire. They’re blown sky-high.
I throw myself inside the Magazine bunker and reach between my shoulder blades, trying to to crank down my Drama Dial. It won’t budge. Dammit. I look around the Magazine to discover crates stamped with skulls and crossbones line the walls. I pop one open, praying for something that might save my life. Dynamite, a Zippo, and…
Weapon: M1 Garand
Range: 200m | Damage: Class I
Great, a World War 2 relic, and it’s empty. I dig for ammo as the Bros pile in behind me. “Hey, it’s an armory!” one yells. Outside the door, I spot a dozen C4ts barreling toward the Magazine. The Trainwreck Bros led them right to me. “Oh, crap.”
No time. I grab a handfull of dynamite and the Zippo, snatch Pepper, and dive out the back viewport. We roll down the hill as dozens of rainbow contrails streak into the bunker.
I hear a Bro whine. “Aw, maaa—”
The Magazine goes up like a fireworks truck. Dynamite, grenades—everything blows at once. Ammo explodes like popcorn as Bros and kittens pinwheel through a storm of fire, cat fur, and mullets.
Empathy Engine?: Trauma Bonding
Exiting the area while teammates are dying may cause them lingering emotional scars of abandonment. In the future, consider delaying your exit until all team members have finished exploding. Shared trauma leads to shared trust!
“Wow!” Pep shouts. “I hope they’re okay!”
“They’re fine, they’re still sitting in their mom’s basement.” I hear the Bros respawn back by the Fume Reaper trap. I’m the one in trouble. I took another hit in the back when the Magazine exploded.
Health: 17%
All I’ve got is an empty gun, and I’m alone. Creeping away, I disappear into the jungle, trying to stay quiet as my Camouflage While Idle skill kicks in. I gobble down one of Pepper’s Meal Prepper salmon fillets and my health pops up to 40%. I snarf another and get to 73. I tell myself to keep my last one for an emergency, but I’m not sure how it can get worse than this.
My ammo dump diversion buys me some time as I sneak through the final stretch toward the saferoom on the map. As I escape, I run through a swarm of insects and realize they’re the little camera-drone flies. Apparently, my impending death might be interesting enough to watch on RiftTok.
To prove the point, another explosion goes off somewhere nearby, and my Health bar drops another 10 points. The audience might get what they want.
I round a corner along a cliff that overlooks the sea… and see my salvation.
A big concrete bunker that looks as sturdy as a NYC bouncer squats next to the cliff, and right in the center is a big neon-green door just waiting for me. Once I get inside, nothing can kill me.
Saferoom: Camp Couch Potato
Threat level: 0%. Max. Occupancy: 40. Heal up, restock, and move out! Free Rifta~Cola for the first 10 visitors!
“Hooay!” yells Pep. “We’re saved!”
I run to the door to escape inside the Safehouse. But when I grab the handle and yank, the thing doesn’t budge. Instead, it stings my hand for 1% damage.
Players Only. Further NPC attempts to open saferoom will result in 99% damage.
“Sh§t!”
I’m screwed, I’m completely screwed. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
I turn to find everyone on the island is headed straight for me. The Nyanmite C4ts, the respawned Trainwreck Bros, even Anna S and the Weapons of Ass Destruction are making a beeline for the saferoom door. Some of the players almost make it, but the C4ts get there first. A platoon of them forms a half-circle around the Safehouse, surrounding us.
20 C4ts pull 20 pins from 20 grenades.
Hell’s bells.
Placebo Protocols, here I come.
“Daaance parrrty!!!!”
I spin to find Pepper holding a tiny box with a big red button that reads “GO”. She slams her flipper down on the button, and the air explodes with confetti.
MemeQueen: Shot Caller Activated
Dance Party: 30 seconds
? “Y.M.C.A.” — The Village People (1978) ?
Trumpets fill the clearing as the C4ts stop cold at the sound of music. Confetti and streamers fill the sky. A gigantic disco ball lowers from one of the palm trees, a spotlight hits it, and the jungle is suddenly filled with spinning light. Camera drones circle Pepper, who jumps into the middle of the clearing and shouts on cue. “Young man!”
Critical Success!
Flash Mob Mentality Activated
The C4ts jump into choreographed dance rows, every single one of them gyrating their bodies in rhythm to the beat. Several C4ts jump back and forth with their paws on their hips, trailing rainbow streams of light behind them as they dance in unison under flashing lights, confetti, and enough streamers to fill an NFL halftime show.
Nyanmite C4ts in the front row throw their paws in the air like they just don’t care. Y! The second row throws down. M! Third row curls their tails. C! And the triumphant fourth row. A! The whole world is music and light, filled with disco balls and rainbows.
Pepper squeals, bouncing like a feathered cheerleader. “Yay! They know the letters!”
I just stand there, convinced I’ve died and gone to Saturday morning cartoons directed by Paula Abdul. Camera-drones buzz everywhere, capturing the dance party from every angle. The jungle trees fill with theater smoke, laser lights fill the air with neon text: #RiftDance #PopHit #PepperParty.
“Get inside!” UMadBro grabs the saferoom door and yanks it open easy as a screen door in July. He ushers the Bros inside, the Weapons of Ass Destruction hot on their tails. Brocodile high-fives Pep on his way inside. “You’re awesome, duck!”
“See you later, alligator!” laughs Pepper.
The last of the player teams make it into the saferoom and slam the door behind them. Meanwhile, I’m watching four rows of C4ts who are now wearing Native American headdresses, biker leathers, construction helmets, and motorcycle cop pants. “Y-M-C-A!”
Pepper’s MemeQueen timer runs out. The music record-scratches to a stop. The C4ts collapse, exhausted.
With my DramaDial sill cranked to 300%, I worry they’re going to try to kill us again, but nothing happens. All the RiftElite players are gone, and apparently the kamikaze kittens don’t care about killing NPCs. The C4ts just start licking themselves and wander off. A few fist-bump Pepper, congratulating her. One gives her a friendly hip-check. “Nice work!” The C4t says. “See you tomorrow!” “Woo, that was awesome!”
“Woo! You’re such great dancers!” Pepper smiles excitedly, confetti spinning from her feathered motorcycle cop helmet. “Dave! We didn’t die!”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My brain can’t absorb this much stupid at once. It’s not even the whole insane dance party salvation that has me bent out of shape.
It’s the fact that a kid’s math game just saved my life.
Pepper is more than I gave her credit for. A lot more.
Badge Unlocked! Viral Video du Jour: “YMCAts!”
You appeared in the most-watched video of the day! Again! Call your mom!
Dance Party Payday! 500XP | 100,000 gold
Stamina +1
Strength +1
No-Kill Solution +1
HypeScore: +?2000
I hear a slow clap behind me. Anna S sits on top of the saferoom roof, slapping her leather half-gloves together in a round of slow applause. She smiles through neon cigarette smoke. “Not bad, Happy Feet. Not bad.”
She jumps down and strides toward us. “Now. Either of you guys have anything good to eat?”