Two players in particular have reached such exceptional consistency with their signature faults that (a) missing the ball and (b) moving it two millimetres are no longer two nameless atrocities (although they will remain nameless for the sake of preserving dignity). Indeed, one of them pulled off five fantastic (b) moves in a row. Move (a) was, thankfully, never chained together.
Saturday the twenty-first was the day of the birthday party. (Yes, I've put off this post for that long. Don't judge.) We started off with a very rigged game of air hockey at LaserQuest, in which the scoreboard only selectively incremented if it felt like awarding points for a shot. Seriously. The other team scored three times in a row and the numbers did little more than blink. By the time we "officially" reached seven points, the score was much closer to 9-13 in actuality.
In terms of technique, it wasn't much better than the pool game. I scored on myself about three times (which was only a little above the median), but also managed a few aces (if that's what they're called in air hockey). Thankfully, the scoreboard took pity on me and the other team only got one point for my three fallacies.
The actual laser tagging itself wasn't that bad, although a certain partygoer did manage to shoot her own sensor. She saw her reflection and shot that, thinking it was someone else. Apparently, it deactivated. Which isn't a bad deal, considering you earn more points for shooting someone than what you lose for getting shot. One friend's advice for the group was to prey on the little kids and stalk them around the arena, which I told myself I wouldn't do, but kind of ended up resorting to at the end because they tend to be oblivious as to what direction they're being targeted from and so can safely be farmed. I also ended up with a delightful blister on my third finger from the trigger, which still has not healed completely.
After that, it was back to the arcade. This time, we tried out the other games. The basketball shootout was pathetically coordinated between three players, with several collisions right over the net where two balls could have made it in. The shooting gallery thing just didn't happen. Because we were so observant, we paid our fare before glancing at the giant error message on the screen. The best part? The machine rejected our refund request. So we had to go to the front desk to request a reimbursement.
And then, what must have been the most epic part of the day. A story to be passed down for generations: the guaranteed prize claw crane. The large prize round isn't a guarantee, but the plushies are actually worth the dollar. We got really lucky during our attempt (lucky enough to knock a giant crayon from the large prize pile over the divider and into the small prize pool). And we all know what that means. Unlimited tries for a large prize!
ROUND ONE
I think we stayed there about fifteen minutes, applying different techniques and grabbing different parts of that goddamn crayon that refused to be lifted. We stationed people on two sides to optimize the x/y-coordinates, but after a slip-up with the controls, the claw missed the crayon and plunged into the stock of generic small prizes and hitched onto some insignificant plushie. Our collective "NOOOO!" must have caused major seismic waves. And then the plushie slipped from the claw and we were all flooded with relief.
Relief for half a second, at least, until we realized there was still something clutched in the claw. It was thin and flowing. A ripple of satin? A dapple of silk? Nope. A pathetic, limp tissue/lint sheet pinched between the claws like a dead robin. That was what hung from the metal grappler, making its way steadily closer to the drop-off chute.
No sequence of Unicode characters is capable of representing the bitter disappointment, the failure of our situation. I'm not even sure we groaned, although I was too busy trying not to fall over with laughter to notice what anyone else said.
"What a wonderful birthday present."
"Yeah, best present ever, of course!"
We held it gingerly, as though it were infected, before deciding to once again complain to the staff. The woman at the counter gave a small "huh" of amusement, although her face showed no humour. More of a polite bewilderment. Her eyes slid toward her co-worker who cracked a joke about its value and how excited we should be.
The woman was still standing there holding the tissue. She seemed not to have heard the joke. "What the hell?" Her voice sounded more annoyed than anything else. She refunded our purchase after a few seconds of hesitation. Which means...
ROUND TWO
We spent another ten minutes trying to coax the goddamn claw to grip the goddamn crayon, which would not goddamn budge. In the end we nudged it further into its corner and sealed off any chance of victory. And so, with a half-hearted shot at the crayon tip, the claw once again missed and brought us a standard small plushie. Oh well. At least it wasn't a Bounty sheet.
And so we went back to the birthday girl's rec room where we held our private party despite the fact that we made no reservation and paid no money. Shhhh...
I'm not sure whose idea it was to play pool. But within minutes I was dragged into it, and the first game took around three/four hours, with the second game about an hour shorter. And it was always the same rally. One team rapidly sinks all their balls and then works on the eight ball for two hours while the other team is stuck on their last (non-eight) ball. Play alternates between misses and penalties until the second team finally sinks their last ball and someone spears the eight-ball into its rightful hole. Honestly though, that cue was so bad. An enormous crack down the middle constantly threatened to skin our fingers.
After pool, we tried our first board game, Deal or No Deal (yeah, I didn't know that was a board game either). Basically, the players take on the roles of the host, contestant, and case holder models. Apparently we should have all failed our literacy tests because nobody could interpret the instructions without a brain ache and, apart from cracking up at our models' dramatic facial expressions before opening the cases, it was generally a disaster. Our contestant simply refused to consider the bank's offers, slamming the No Deal button before any sort of offer could even be set. Which turned out to be quite worth it, since her chosen case contained $400 000.
Other highlights of the party include Mario Party, Dance Central 2, a lot of food, Taboo, Uno Attack (which I won), and a sad game of Nerf capture the flag with improvised rules. We definitely spent more time recovering the pellets and picking a suitable area than we did playing.
That party was definitely one to remember. Like our summer this year, we broke a truckload of records. Because that's what TOPS kids do. They just never stop.
Your descriptions are absolutely hilarious to read. Happy you enjoyed yourself. ^.^
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