Department Store Adventures in a White Miniskirt

I wandered into the Nintendo section and found myself staring up at the demo monitor that flashed "Soul Bringer" . . . or "Soul Muncher"? . . . or . . . . Okay, I can't remember the actual name, but I know it was Soul Something-or-Other Part 2, which I'm assuming is the sequel to Soul Something-or-Other Part 1

With its uncomfortably low joystick thrust out at me, the machine beguiled me to press Start, and I did press.

The monitor flashed and swirled, blinked and blipped until finally displaying a stone arena encircling a man in a red shirt and a woman scantily dressed in white. They faced each other, panting heavily. I realized they were not happy to see each other when I saw they both carried swords, poised for attack.

An announcer yelled: "OKAY! FIGHT!"

The man with Fabio hair and Fabio pecs marched forward and looked at the woman with  an odd mix of menace and boredom. In one slow, robotic, distracted movement, he raised his arm and whopped the woman in the head with a sword that was bigger than his leg. She offered no resistance. In fact, she crumpled to the floor as if a small steel factory had landed on her.

This was my first clue that I was the chick in the white miniskirt.

She sprang back to her feet with a speed strictly forbidden in Earth-like gravity, especially when wearing high-heeled, knee-high boots. I was impressed with her agility and held hope for her fighting skills. A white bolero jacket complemented her miniskirt. In her right hand, she brandished a petite sword with lots of pretty curlicues, and in her left, an itty-bitty blue shield. I'm sure all of these items she picked up at her local Lane Bryant.

Now keep in mind that I was disadvantaged using the game controller. Not only were my hands full with items I intended to purchase, but the controller contained a right-hand joystick, a left-hand joystick, and about 300 buttons -- none of which I knew what did.

I started pushing buttons frantically.

Fabio-dude advanced again and yelled, "I'm going to kick your Lane-Bryant-credit-card packing ass! Then I will grab that little chickie ponytail and slam you up against the wall! And while you lie there twitching, I will steal your boots because they are to die for!"

I'm translating here, of course. What he actually said was, "Yah!"

He ran after me.

So, obviously, I ran the other way as fast as my miniskirt permitted. As Chickie clip-clopped around the arena, I pushed buttons frantically again.

Without warning, Chickie stopped, knelt, and brought both forearms together in front of her face like, "Nyeh! You can't get me." I assumed this was some sort of block.

Fabio-dude walked up and politely whopped her in the head just like before. But this time he also got an attitude. He picked her up and crunched her back over his knee, ... then threw her against the wall.

He left the boots.

I waited for Chickie to perform one of her dynamically rapid recoveries. It did not happen.

The announcer yelled: "KNOCK-OUT!"

I blamed everything on the game controller.

Apparently Chickie shook off the crunched back, because suddenly we were in Round 2.

I thought, I've got to figure out these buttons. Even though my left thumb could barely touch the left joystick, I moved it. Simultaneously, Chickie's sword wiggled and appeared to be turning green.

Fabio Dude stomped forward again and yelled, "Yah!" (We all know what that means.)

When he got near her, I released the left joystick. Chickie's green wiggling sword arced through the air in slow motion Whuuuummmm! and blasted Fabio Dude like an ICBM in the left rib cage. BOOM!

Flames shot out of his ribs.

And he fell to the floor.

Dude wasn't happy with me when he recovered. I knew this because he wasn't looking at my white miniskirt anymore.

"Yah!" he yelled.

So, I wiggled Chickie's sword again. Whuuuummmm!

And he fell to the floor again.

The announcer yelled: "KNOCK OUT!"

Round 3. The tiebreaker. It basically went:

"Yah!"

Whuuuummmm!

Whuuuummmm!

"KNOCK OUT!"

I thought, "Yeah. I'm good."

The game paused to load the second match. The screen faded in from black and Chickie popped back onto the arena. She was yipping, now. I was unsure why. To be honest, though, she sounded like Xena -- after taking a couple of hits from a helium tank.

I thought, "It doesn't matter. I'm bad, now."

New Dude appeared.

He stood about 11 feet tall and his arms bulged with twice the girth of Chickie's whole body. It's unlikely he bench pressed anything lighter than Clydesdales. Two great big horns curved out of the back of his helmet. The blade of his axe stretched as long as a Lincoln Town Car.

And he was dressed in purple. All purple.

From deep within his bellows of a chest he roared: GrrrrrrAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

I assume this translated to, "I'm going to kick your Lane-Bryant-credit-card packing ass!"

I believed him.

So, Chickie wiggled her sword.

Purple-dude raised his axe high enough over head it incited atmospheric disturbances before thundering down. Ka-THOOM!

And missed Chickie by about two feet.

Under the blessing of Purple Dude's obvious near-sightedness, Chickie's sword had time to grow green and wiggle. I let go of the ICBM launch button, Chickie responded with a great swing of her gamma-ray blade of death, and it went tink! against Great Big Purple Dude's side. No flames. He didn't fall down. Just, tink!

Chickie looked up at him and said, "You're going to kill me now, aren't you?"

GrrrrrrAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

The axe thundered down again. It missed again, but Chickie fell anyway. Apparently, Purple Dude and his weapon were so powerful that he didn't need to hit her specifically. The shockwave caused enough collateral damage.

I punched buttons until my hands began to sweat.

All the while, Chickie decided to start rolling on the floor as Dude gave chase and whacked at her repeatedly with the axe. THOOM-THOOM-THOOM!

I guess I hit the right button, or maybe she just started ignoring me. Regardless, Chickie stood up as Great Big Purple Dude raised his axe.

This axe should have been foremost on my mind. Instead, though, I contemplated the design of the controller. I remembered there were triggers hidden (hidden from me, at least) on the front. I wondered what would happen if I pulled one of those.

I pulled a trigger.

Chickie walked forward and climbed up Purple Dude's body. There was a peculiar casualness in how she scaled him, as if she were merely hopping up on a counter to retrieve a top-shelf box of coco-munchies during a commercial break. I think he was just as surprised as I was. She continued to climb until she reached the top of his head, where she grabbed his horns.

Now keep in mind, Chickie on a bloated day might weigh a hundred pounds, including the sword and miniskirt. Great Big Purple Dude weighed as much as one of those big yellow bulldozers with ominous names like Earth Mover or Planet Flattener.

Chickie locked her grip onto Purple Dude's horns, yipped like Xena on helium, and threw him over her head. He flew about ninety-five feet through the air and smacked down on the floor.

"KNOCK OUT!"

I was done then. I had seen it all.

As I left the store, I was stopped.

"Sir, sir! Are you going to pay for that miniskirt?"

"What? Um, this? Um, I ... honestly, it's just for emergencies," I said.

He scowled. I could swear his uniform was shaded slightly purple.