Suddenly, Brian understood Cain’s desire to bash Abel’s head in with a rock.
“What do you mean you guys aren’t doing the Warrain tournament anymore?”
Abel, Brian’s perpetually high roommate, shrugged, looking disinterested with the conversation. “Man, we just don’t want to.”
Brian stared at him. “Okay, but you don’t want to do anything except smoke weed.”
Abel chuckled. “Heh, yeah.” He flopped down on the dingy couch that sat in the middle of the living room of their studio apartment. “I dunno what to tell you, man. That game thing? It’s just not cool.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Brian exclaimed. “I can’t find a new team in just a week!”
Abel shrugged again. “Not my problem. The guys and I all talked, and we decided it’s just not in the cards for us right now, bro. Sorry.”
Brian watched as he rummaged around, pulling a bag of chips out from in between the couch cushions and shoving a handful into his mouth. Brian struggled to think of a good comeback, but he couldn’t come up with anything. Instead, he just grabbed his stuff and left.
He stomped into the workers’ lounge half an hour later, throwing off his coat and bag and shoving them unceremoniously into his cubby hole. He grabbed his nametag and slapped the magnets together between the layers of his shirt, ignoring how it wrinkled the fabric. He sighed, running a hand over his face before he stalked out into the linoleum hallway.
“Good morning, Brian!” a breathy voice called from down the corridor.
Brian turned to see Ethel coming down the hall toward him, her walker slowly tapping out a rhythm on the slick floor. She was wearing a pink muumuu and house slippers, her hair in curlers, a wide grin on her face.
“Good morning, Ethel,” Brian said, waiting for her to catch up and falling into step with her once she did. “Where are you headed this morning?”
“Oh, the girls and I are meeting for breakfast!” Ethel exclaimed cheerily, her feet shuffling along a bit faster in excitement. “They’re having scones today, and the swallows have begun building their nests in the sycamore out on the lawn.”
“Mind if I join you?” Brian asked. “I could use a scone or two, and I have some time before I need to go on my rounds.”
“Oh, of course!” Ethel said, beaming up at him.
Brian managed a weak smile back at her as they continued the short trek to the dining room.
There was a small table near a large bay window with four chairs sitting around it waiting for them in the dining hall, along with two other women. Each had a scone on a plate next to a mug of coffee or tea. Brian helped Ethel into her own chair before sitting down himself.
“Brian!” Minnie exclaimed, taking her glasses from her nose and placing them next to the large doughnut of silver hair on top of her head. “Did you hear? Albert and Edward had another tiff over croquet yesterday!”
Brian shook his head. “If those two weren’t brothers, they would kill each other.”
“They very well might,” Agnes grumped, popping up the collar of her old leather jacket. “That would be exciting.”
“Now, Agnes,” Minnie tutted, “You don’t really mean that.”
“Of course I do,” Agnes said, “They’ve been threatening each other for years! It’s about time someone went through with something.”
Ethel looked at Brian meaningfully. “Agnes hasn’t had her pill yet this morning, have you, dear?”
“Don’t you ‘dear’ me, Ethel,” Agnes griped. “I know when to take my medicine, thank you very much.”
“That’s what they all say,” Minnie mumbled, smiling over the rim of her mug.
Agnes opened her mouth, but Brian stood before she could say anything. “Coffee or tea, Ethel?”
“Oh, tea for me, please,” Ethel said, unfolding her napkin with wrinkled hands and placing it in her lap.
“What a nice young man!” Minnie exclaimed. “My grandson is just like that.”
“How is your grandson, Minnie?” Ethel asked.
“Ethel, don’t get her started–” Agnes cried, but Minnie had already begun talking about her grandson and his latest school project.
Brian smiled to himself and walked over to the serving area, picking up two plates of scones and filling a mug with tea before heading back over to the table. Ethel thanked him as he sat, putting his chin in his palm as he munched on the blueberry scone.
“Brian, are you alright?” Minnie asked him.
Brian looked up from his breakfast into the concerned faces of the three ladies-well, Ethel and Minnie looked concerned. Agnes mainly looked apathetic, but that’s how she usually was. “It’s nothing.”
“Nonsense!” Ethel said, putting down her scone. “You’ve been out of sorts ever since you arrived.”
“I’ve been here for less than ten minutes, Ethel.”
The old woman smiled at him. “I can tell when someone’s unhappy.”
“Is it a girl?!” Minnie asked gleefully.
“Minnie!” Ethel admonished, “Don’t assume that everything has to do with Brian having a girlfriend!”
“I don’t,” Brian said.
“You know who you would be cute with? My granddaughter. She’s getting her degree at San Diego State University in Journalism, isn’t that lovely? I’m sure the two of you have a lot in common–”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Brian said, “If she’s anything like you, she is far out of my league.”
Minnie tittered. “What a flirt!”
“Oh, stick a sock in it, Minnie,” Agnes said, rolling her eyes. Minnie looked offended.
“So, what is it?” Ethel asked again.
Brian sighed. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes!” Ethel and Minnie exclaimed. Agnes continued to look bored, but she turned slightly in her chair.
Brian ran his hands through his hair, catching his fingers in the knots he hadn’t bothered to comb out that morning. “Well, my friends and I play this game. We’re like a team. And we were supposed to enter this tournament next weekend, but they’ve all bailed on me. I can’t find anyone else on such short notice, at least not in enough time to put a good team together.” He smiled grimly. “I was really looking forward to it too.” He trailed off.
“What sort of game is it?” Ethel asked him.
“Oh. Um…” Brian felt his cheeks flush red. “It’s kind of like a roleplaying video game. It’s a super nerdy college thing. Kind of hard to explain.”
“What’s it called?” Minnie asked.
“Warrain,” Brian muttered, hoping that the ladies wouldn’t have heard him. He didn’t think his luck had held, because they were all exchanging looks. He pushed his chair back and stood up. “Well, thank you for the breakfast. I should probably go on my rounds now.”
“Oh, yes, see you later, dear,” Ethel said offhandedly.
Brian left the cafeteria, brushing blueberry scone crumbs from his hands.
The rest of his day passed as normal. He visited residents and took them their medication, made beds and cleaned the bathrooms, led a round of bingo after lunch, and at precisely four twenty-three, made the weekly attempt to get Mr. Jones out of the games closet.
“Mr. Jones, please come out,” Brian said, rapping on the doorframe.
“No!” Mr. Jones exclaimed. “I will not! That old bat is going to find me.”
“Who are you calling an old bat?” Agnes said, appearing from around the corner, Ethel and Minnie in tow.
There was a muffled scream from inside the closet. “I need backup, stat!”
“Agnes, can you please talk to your husband?” Brian asked.
Agnes muttered something under her breath, but dutifully marched over and pounded on the doorframe. “Ernest, if you don’t come out of there this minute, I am going to hide your bathrobe again.”
“Ha!” Mr. Jones said. “Good luck with that, witch! I’m wearing it!”
Agnes frowned, grabbing the doorknob and rattling it. “You can’t hide from me forever, you know!”
“What is he hiding from this time?” Brian asked.
Minnie grinned. “I think he’s hiding from the fifth Saving Private Ryan rerun that Agnes has been trying to force on him all day.”
“Brian, we have a proposition for you,” Ethel told him taking his arm and steering him away from the closet, where Agnes and her husband were still arguing loudly. “We’ve been discussing it all day–”
“They interrupted my nap twice,” Agnes cut in, before rattling the door handle some more.
“–And we’ve come to an agreement.” She looked around at her friends. “Well, if you want, we–”
“We want to enter the tournament with you!” Minnie cried.
The two women in front of him looked to Brian expectantly. Agnes muttered something about Ernest and trench warfare.
“Um,” Brian said eloquently, “What?”
“The tournament!” Ethel said, holding up a creased sheet of paper with the Warrain logo on it. “The one that you said you couldn’t play in because your teammates abandoned you? It said on the website that you need four players to a team, and well, there’s three of us. Plus you, that makes four! It’s perfect.”
“Yeah, but–”
“Oh, don’t worry, we can learn!” Ethel exclaimed. Minnie nodded, and Agnes kicked the door, instigating a yelp from Ernest. “We did some reading, the game seems fairly straight forward. I’m sure if you teach us, we can be ready.”
“I don’t know…” Brian said, rubbing a hand on the back of his head. “It takes some gaming knowledge, and strategic thinking, and knowing your teammates well enough to predict their movements.” The ladies looked at him disapprovingly.
“My grandson showed me how to play a racing game once,” Minnie said.
“I was an army nurse during the Vietnam War,” Agnes told him.
“And we’ve all been friends for years,” Ethel said. “We would like to help you, Brian. Besides, it will be fun!” The others nodded.
Brian exhaled heavily. “Are you sure?”
They smiled up at him, eyes bright.
“I think you should say yes,” Ernest said from inside the closet.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” Brian said.
The ladies cheered.
“We won’t let you down!” Ethel said, tapping her walker excitedly.
When Brian returned home that night, he found that his couch was full of his old teammates, Kurt and Alex, playing Warrain on the small television with Abel.
“Oh,” Brian said, “Hey, guys.” He felt a stab of anger in his chest, but resolutely ignored it, determined not to let them get the best of him.
“B-dawg!” Abel said, his eyes glazed over, “We were just talking about you!”
“Yeah?” Brian said.
“Yeah,” Kurt said, looking up at him shrewdly, “Talking about how much easier it will be to win the Warrain tournament without you holding us back.”
“Cause you suck!” Alex, Kurt’s main lackey, said, snorting into his can of beer.
Brian’s mouth fell open as he stared at Kurt. “Um, what the hell?”
Abel looked guiltily at him. “Sorry, man, but it’s kind of true.”
Brian did a very good impression of a fish for a couple of seconds. “I do not suck!”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Let it go, Brian. We’ve already found your replacement, and we have this thing in the bag. Without your itchy trigger finger, we will be unbeatable.”
Brian held up his hands. “Okay, just because I accidently blew up our base on accident one time does not mean–”
“One time, yes,” Kurt said. “At the most important tournament of our lives! You lost us the game, and now we have a chance to win it. We won’t lose this time; you can be sure of that.”
“Oh, yeah?” Brain said, his brain sputtering a bit as he tried to think of a good comeback. “Well, I’ve found a team of my own! And we’re the ones who are going to win! So… yeah.”
Kurt scoffed. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Oh, believe me,” Brian said, narrowing his eyes and wishing very much that he could punch Kurt square in the jaw, “You will.”
“Alright, ladies!” Brain said, marching into the common area with a box of controllers and game manuals in his arms. “Your training starts now!”
Ethel and Minnie cheered, clapping their hands. Agnes turned the volume on her war documentary up louder.
“If I have to give up the TV, I’m not doing it,” Agnes said.
“Please make her do it,” Ernest said from his wife’s side, “I don’t think I can take anymore World War II footage.”
“Shut up, Ernest,” Agnes said, folding her arms.
Brian took a controller from the box, waggling it at Agnes. “There’s shooting in this game.”
Agnes raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Well, I suppose I’ll try it.” She turned off the DVD player, setting the remote down on the coffee table.
“Oh, thank God,” Ernest said, breathing a sigh of relief and getting up, escaping from the room while he could.
“Okay,” Brian said, hooking up his gaming system and handing a controller to each of the ladies. “Warrain is a game of strategy and teamwork. The object of the game is to take the other team’s artifact from their home base, and not have ours taken or destroyed, OR to take out all their players without getting beaten ourselves. Agnes, you and I will be the offensive players; we attack. Minnie and Ethel, you’re on defense, so you guard the artifact.” He held up a gaming controller. “You can use the toggle switches to move around. Right trigger is to strike, left trigger is to duck. And you all have a special grenade that can be used once per game. To use it, you press the button with an X on it. Everyone got it?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Agnes said, leaning forward in her seat eagerly. “Let’s get this thing going, I want to take some people out!”
“Alright, we’ll give it a shot,” Brian said, pressing the command to start the game.
Five minutes later, everything had turned to chaos. Agnes was beating her controller on her legs, pressing her attack button rapidly while screaming, “Die! Die!” as she whacked at a tree violently. Minnie was running around in circles, still trying to figure out how to move her character around. Ethel had gotten distracted by a particularly interesting looking flower in the bottom right corner and was ignoring how Brian was currently being impaled as the automated team rushed in to steal the artifact.
Brian groaned. “We’re going to need a lot of work.”
Albert and Edward chose that moment to poke their heads into the common room. “We need the television. It’s time for Wheel of Fortune.”
“Die!” Agnes screamed.
Brian felt like the next week of his life could accurately be summed up using a montage with Eye of the Tiger playing in the background.
Every day after his rounds, he sat down with the ladies and tried to teach them the finer points of Warrain. There was a lot of screaming, Brian’s patience was tested on multiple occasions, and there was one particularly unfortunate incident where Agnes had managed to break the coffee table in half by standing on top of it in excitement, dragging Ernest up with her (they had gotten in trouble for that one). Albert and Edward didn’t help matters either, as they insisted on unplugging the gaming controllers and trying to watch reruns of Golden Girls whenever Brian and the ladies stopped for a tea break.
Finally, the big day arrived. Brian had managed to get the ladies into his beaten up Sedan and driven them all downtown to the community center. He pulled into the parking lot and turned the ignition off as quickly as he could, as Ethel had been constantly changing the radio station from heavy metal (at Agnes’ request), to classical symphonic music (which was Minnie), and back again.
“Alright, let’s go check in,” Brian said, moving around the car to help Ethel out. Minnie bounced out from the back seat, followed by Agnes.
The group made their way into the building. The center was filled with people of all ages, from about twelve to late-forties. A table in the center of the lobby had a large sign reading Check-In on it.
Brian walked up to it slowly, making sure his teammates could keep up. They stopped in front of the table.
“Team number?” the guy at the table said, flipping through a list of the teams.
“567,” Brian said. The guy glanced up, and did a double-take.
“Uh…” He looked around, confused. “I’m not sure where the knitting club is meeting, but I can have someone find out for you?”
“Oh no, young man, we’re here to participate in the tournament,” Ethel said cheerily. The others nodded.
The guy’s eyes widened, and he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Uh. Alright.” He glanced at the list. “Yeah. 567. You’ll be playing team number 636 for the first round.” He pointed to a room a few feet away. “It’s just right in there. Someone can help you get set up if you need it.” He bit his lip. “Good luck.”
“Thank you!” the ladies chorused as they all moved away toward the game room.
“What a nice young man,” Minnie commented. “And cute, too!”
“Well, well, well,” a voice said from behind them. “What do we have here?”
Brian, the ladies, and Ernest all turned around to see Kurt, Alex, Abel, and a kid Brian had never seen before standing there, arms folded.
“My, my, Brian,” Kurt said, “This is your star team?” He clicked his tongue. “I expected something… actually, I’m not sure what I expected.”
Brian was staring at the kid. “You replaced me with a ten-year-old?”
“I’m eleven, so shut up,” the kid said.
“He’s Alex’s little brother,” Abel said, having the decency to look mildly sheepish.
“Shut up, Abel,” Kurt said, stepping into Brian’s personal space. “I hope you’re ready to lose…”
“Loser!” Alex put in, nodding eagerly and grinning.
Kurt glanced toward his henchman, rolling his eyes. “Yes. Well. I hope you’ve prepared, because we’re going to wipe the floor with you.” He looked pleased with himself, and raised an eyebrow at Brian and his team as he turned on his heel and sauntered away, Abel, Alex, and Alex’s little brother hot on his heels.
“Well, they weren’t very nice,” Minnie said.
“They replaced me with an eleven-year-old,” Brian muttered.
“They won’t know what hit them.” Agnes cracked her knuckles menacingly.
“I’m so much better at Warrain than an eleven-year-old!”
“Come on, girls, we’d better go get ready,” Ethel said, moving her walker forward and starting toward the large community room, where the tournament would soon be beginning.
“Like, he probably doesn’t even know the difference between an orc and a—”
“Brian, come on!” Agnes said, grabbing him by the arm and leading him after Ethel and Minnie.
The community center was set up in a series of cubicles to separate the rounds, each with a semi-circle of chairs, flat screen TV, and gaming controllers hooked up and ready to go. Brian and the ladies found the cubicle marked with their number, and took their seats. Their opponents were already there, a group of guys who were probably in high school, given their snapbacks, Warrain t-shirts, and scuffed basketball shoes.
“Alright,” Brian said, the ladies huddling around him. “Just stay focused, remember what we’ve practiced, and don’t blow up the base accidentally.”
“Why would we do that?” Ethel asked.
“Yeah, you’d have to be some kind of idiot to accidentally blow up your own base,” Agnes said.
Brian pursed his lips. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”
“Are both teams ready?” A bored-looking employee in a referee shirt said.
“We are,” Brian said, settling into his seat. Ethel, Minnie, and Agnes made themselves comfortable as well, and picked up their controllers.
“We’re ready too,” one of the guys on the other team said. “Good luck.” His friends snickered.
“Thanks, you too!” Minnie said cheerfully, winking at them.
“Okay, then, start, I guess,” the referee said, pressing the power button on the television and wandering off.
The Warrain logo flashed onto the screen, and the ladies and Brian immediately sprang into action. Minnie and Ethel ran towards their base, prepared to protect it, while Agnes and Brian attacked the other team’s defense.
Agnes swung her wicked-looking sword at one of the other team’s players, who yelped and dodged in just in time. He counterpart wasn’t so lucky; Agnes hit his arm and his health dropped. He rolled out of her way and came up, drawing his own weapon.
“Ha!” Agnes snarled, and engaged.
Brian went for the other guy, who was hoisting a spear and preparing to throw it at Agnes. Brian hit him, and the spear went wide, sailing past Agnes’ face. It nicked the guy’s teammate, who was so surprised that he dropped his own weapon, giving Agnes the opportunity to cut in and slice him across the chest. His avatar dissolved.
“Oh, good work, Ethel!” Minnie said. Brian allowed himself to focus at their screen for a moment, and saw that Ethel had just dispatched an avatar with a well-aimed arrow. He smiled, and then turned back to the other team’s base. Their artifact was close, and the only defensive player left was currently occupied by Agnes. Brian went for it, leaping over rocks and dashing towards the artifact.
“He’s going for the artifact!” the guy Agnes was fighting with cried, but it was too late. Brian snatched it off of its resting place, and all of the game screens froze. Game Over flashed across the screen, and then it changed to the page listing the stats from the game.
“We did it!” Minnie cried. Ethel cheered, and Agnes set down her controller with a satisfied smirk.
“Wow,” one of the high school guys said. “Uh… good game.” He held out a palm.
“Thanks, you too,” Brian said, shaking hands with him.
“Good luck,” the guy said. He and his teammates stood and left the cubicle, shaking their heads in disbelief.
“Now what?” Minnie asked.
“Now we make our way through the ranks,” Brian said.
“Oh good,” Agnes said, “I was hoping there would be more.”
The rest of the afternoon flashed by quickly. Minnie and Ethel had gotten particularly good at defensive playing, and Agnes was near unbeatable through her sheer force and aggression. Brian found himself playing the best games of his life, his confidence boosted by how well the ladies were doing.
They played three more teams; a group of middle school boys, a mixed bunch of kids who really liked using their grenades, and some college girls who smiled and took selfies with Ethel and Minnie (Agnes refused to participate).
“I can’t believe it,” Brian said after the girls had left. “We’ve made it to the semi-finals! If we win this game, then we’ll just have to win one more to become the champions!”
“I like the sound of that,” Agnes said, grinning.
“The sound of you losing?” Kurt’s voice floated into their station as he, Abel, Alex, and Alex’s little brother.
“Oh my god,” Brian said, “Not you guys.”
“Looks like we’re facing off against you to seal our victory,” Kurt sneered. “I hope you like the taste of defeat.”
“I hope you like the taste of a knuckle sandwich,” Agnes said. Ethel put a hand on her arm and shook her head.
“Okay, I want to see a clean game, or whatever.” The bored referee was back. He pressed the play button. “Go nuts.”
Almost immediately, Kurt and Alex were both rushing towards Ethel and Minnie, weapons drawn. Minnie squealed, and raised her shield as Alex slammed his warhammer down at her.
“Look out!” Brian cried, a little uselessly. He and Agnes rushed toward the enemy base, where Abel and Alex’s little brother were waiting. “I’ve got the kid.”
Agnes didn’t acknowledge him, except to rush toward Abel, who brought up his sword a little too slowly. He was pretty good at Warrain, admittedly, and easily got back into the game.
Alex’s little brother, though decent, didn’t have the years of experience that Brian did. He kind of felt bad for fighting an eleven-year-old, but then he thought of how good the look on Kurt’s face would be when Brian beat him.
“Ha!” Kurt growled. “Take that!” He swung at Minnie, who’s shield shattered, the sword cutting through to her stomach.
“Ethel!” Minnie yelled as her avatar dissolved. “Avenge me!”
“Rah!” Ethel cried, shooting arrow after arrow into the fray.
“Hey!” Alex’s little brother exclaimed as Brian’s sword found its way under his guard and stabbed him under the arm.
“Sorry,” Brian said, not feeling particularly sincere, but feeling a twinge of guilt at beating an eleven-year-old nonetheless.
“Die, you cretin!” Agnes exclaimed, swinging wildly at Abel.
“Dude, what does that even mean?” Abel asked.
Brian turned and began to run toward the artifact, as Agnes had everything well in hand. He could feel victory at his fingertips as he reached out to grab the object that would win them the game, but before he could, the tip of Kurt’s sword suddenly sprouted through his chest.
“Oh,” Brian said in confusion, looking down at the dissolving form of his avatar.
“No!” Agnes cried, turning toward him. As she did, Abel’s sword caught her across the chest and she fell, her health depleting severely.
“Got it!” Alex said. He had pinned Ethel to the ground with his warhammer, and had snatched the artifact from its resting place. Game Over.
Brian looked across the chairs to see Kurt grinning wolfishly at him. “Looks like you lost, sucker.” He laughed. “I don’t even know how you got this far, what with those old bats on your team—”
“Oh, that’s it,” Agnes growled. She stood up from her chair, and Brian watched, frozen, as she strode across the playing area and punched Kurt in the nose.
“Ow!” Kurt shrieked, hands coming up to clutch at his face as he fell out of his seat, “What the hell, you—”
“What’s going on?” The bored referee had finally begun doing his job. “Hey, this isn’t supposed to involve real fighting!”
“Lemme at him, that insufferable-Minnie, get off—” Agnes struggled as Minnie managed to hold her back.
“My nose!” Kurt said, muffled through his hands.
“I don’t think this was covered in the rules,” the referee muttered, flipping through his clipboard.
“They lost!” Alex crowed. “We’ve won!”
“Shut up, Alex!” Kurt cried from the floor. “I think she broke my nose!”
“Oh, you’re fine, you punk-ass—”
“Agnes!” Ethel exclaimed, putting a hand to her chest in horror.
“Um, I think this says that unsportsmanlike conduct will result in immediate disqualification?” The referee squinted at his sheaf of papers. “So… I think you guys are disqualified.” He looked up at Brian, who was still sitting in his seat in shock. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to leave.”
“Oh,” Brian very eloquently said. He stood up robotically and gathered his things, and then left the cubicle, followed by the ladies. Agnes was muttering death threats, and they could hear Kurt still howling in the background while the referee tried to get him to stop.
They soon found themselves outside of the community center. People were milling around, but Brian still couldn’t believe what had just happened.
“You… you punched him in the face.”
“Yeah,” Agnes said, rubbing her knuckles. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding particularly apologetic.
“You punched him!” Brian exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. “I’ve wanted to do that for years!”
“She also got us disqualified,” Minnie mumbled. “And we could have won.”
“Right,” Brian said, his hands falling back to his sides. The four stood in silence for a minute.
“What now?” Minnie asked. Brian shrugged, the elation of seeing Kurt punched by an eighty-five-year-old woman slowly falling.
Ethel looked thoughtful. “Didn’t that nice young man at the check-in desk say something about a knitting club?”
“Oh, yes!” Minnie exclaimed. “I’ve been in need of a new tea cozy.”
“I can work on my son’s Christmas present,” Ethel said, pulling a large lump of wool and knitting needles from the bottom of her bag.
“I’ve got nothing better to do,” Agnes grumbled.
Brian laughed, and followed them down the hallway.
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