Plug 'n' Play

"You know how I'm always keeping an eye open for short little videogames you might be able to play," Everett says on Thursday night. We'd been to a café for supper and were about to watch Torchwood and Doctor Who; one episode of each. "I think I found one."

Oh joy. I have yet to try a videogame that holds my attention, though I know they must exist.

"Wanna try it?"

Why not. He calls it up on his laptop and I sit there and click around, trying to figure out what the point of the "game" is. It's the simplest game ever, I'd say, suitable for perhaps a three-year-old, which apparently is the level of my gaming abilities if my son is correct.

It's called Plug n Play; the characters' heads are electrical plugs, and their asses are sockets. 

It's gotta get better, I think to myself, and I've gotta give it a college try. So I plug heads into asses and cords into sockets and so on and so forth. This goes on for five minutes and then Everett's phone rings and it's his dad so they chat while I "play" for another five minutes and then Everett comes and sits down beside me.

For god's sake, when is this going to get fun or even interesting?

My face says it all, doesn't it?

Plug n Play, my ass.

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Any time we go to a restaurant, Everett usually has a grilled cheese and fries.
Behind him is the reflection of the restaurant behind me.