Free Ant Farm: And Other Desperate Situations by Simon Rich Page B

some of you lack athletic ability, you are very talented at computer simulation games. I cannot tell you how highly these skills areprized in today’s modern army. Next week, we will be having a Presidential Videogame Fitness Test. Anyone who scores higher than 7,000 points on Crystal Quest will be given control of the entire Western Front. Anyone who scores higher than 8,000 points will become President.
Good luck to you all,
The President

inside the cartridge
    Street Fighting Man, copyright © 1987 by Nintendo
Scene: Jump Kick Boulevard
    —How many dead?
    —Fifty.
    —Christ. Exactly the same as yesterday. How’s morale?
    —Terrible. It’s like we’re not even trying out there. We don’t stand a chance against … well … you know.
    —(shuddering) He-Who-Is-Dressed-Differently.
    —He’s immortal, and I’ll swear to that. Today he stopped in midstride and began to punch the air. Five of our brothers walked directly into his moving fist. One by one, they fell to the ground and vanished.
    —There is no God.
    —Every day he defeats us in the exact same sequence, using the exact same maneuvers.
    —And that music. It never stops!
    —The same sixteen notes, over and over again, droning and endless, piercing through the darkened void. (hushed) Sometimes he brings a companion to help him with his murders.
    —Their blows hurt us but not each other!
    —It is as if God has chosen us alone for misery.
    —(sobbing) Why does he rush through our town so quickly?
    —I believe he’s going for a record of some kind. It has to do with points.
    —Sweet Lord!
    —It’s not enough for him to simply take our lives. He must also take our honor.
    —You would think by now he would have grown tired of this battle. Surely the challenge is gone!
    —And yet the genocide continues.
    —Was it always like this, brother?
    —I do not know.
    (Time pauses without warning for three and a half
minutes, then resumes seamlessly.)
    —Hold me, brother, I’m frightened!
    —(punches him in the face) I’m sorry. That seems to be the only action I’m capable of.
    —I only have two hits left.
    THE END

rebellion
    Unfortunately, I started rebelling against my parents at around the same time I developed body odor.
    —Son, I strongly suggest that you start wearing deodorant.
    —Fuck you, Dad. I’ve got bigger plans.
    —Please, son, I’m not the only one who feels strongly about this. Your teachers sent me a letter by messenger. It was signed by some of your classmates.
    —Give the Man whatever he wants, right, Dad? Always obey the Man. That’s your great philosophy of life.
    —Yes, that’s fine, son. Listen. It’s really bad. The smell is really bad.
    —Hey, Dad, guess what? I’m not going to synagogue anymore.
    —Okay … Please, son, I bought you these different kinds of deodorant. If you don’t like any of them, I’ll go back to the store and buy you more kinds. Hey, here’s a cool one. It’s for athletes.
    —I’m moving out! I’m going to live under the overpass! Some of those people fought in wars , Dad. You didn’t fight in any wars.
    —Okay, that’s… All that’s fine. Please put this on, son. You … you carry my name.

what goes through my mind when i’m home alone (from my mom’s perspective)
    Hmm, Mom left me home alone. Better go through the medicine cabinet and drink all the medicine for no reason. Wait, what’s this? A note telling me not to “drink any medicines”? Thank God! I was about to do that. I was about to drink all the medicines and kill myself because I’m retarded.
    Well, I better use the stove and then not turn it off. That way, I’ll burn down the house and kill myself. Wait a minute. There’s a note that says I should “turn off the stove after using it.” Jesus Christ, that never would have occurred to me! Mom saved my life again, twice in one night.
    Well, better throw things out the window, something I haven’t done since I was seven. I’m fifteen years old, but I