Upon stepping into the Mouse Pad gaming store, it was pretty obvious that it was lovingly tended by the very same people it catered to: nerds. The sign was some tacky sort of thing with wispy font and a matching, vaguely mouse-shaped illustration that came off as very modern. The door chimes weren’t a simple bell or electronic ‘ding,’ but synthesized 8-bit sounds strung together in small arcade-esque jingles. From there, the proprietors made no effort to hide the treasure trove of geeky pastimes with walls lined by shelves stocked full of video games, board games, and tabletop rulebooks. Various displays around the store had miniature models on display, some painted and some left plain for the customer’s careful artistry.
One large, round table found its place in an otherwise somewhat empty corner of the store, with a vending machine stuffed nearby. The table was a welcome area for customers to settle in and either play card games or just hang out and relax. The vending machine seemed to have various soft drinks available, but they were all offered by off-brand companies that labeled their drinks for the nerd crowd, with cans of red ‘health potions,’ blue ‘mana potions,’ and even ‘mandrake root beer.’ It was obviously placed there to ensure customers lingered, probably under the idea that the longer they stayed the more they might buy further down the line.
Compared to the summer heat outside, it was comfortably cool inside, with obvious air conditioning. Carmine, a middle-aged Bangaa guy, was happy for the cool air that washed over him. He was worried that his blue shirt was going to be sweat through before he reached the store, and that wouldn’t have done him any good for going out later! He could only hope that his smooth, but scaly green and white skin wasn’t too shiny with perspiration. He took a glance around and didn’t seem to see anyone – no one behind the counter where all the trading cards and things were kept, and no one otherwise tending the store. He knew, of course, that someone was there; he’d come to meet the owner, after all! But if they weren’t going to show their face right away, then he figured he would look around the store a little.
Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Carmine swung his legs in a stiff march to kind of prattle around the store. He loved the kinds of things they sold, finding enjoyment in most of them, and was more than willing to learn the rules of any game he didn’t particularly know about. Of course, he already knew plenty of tabletop games, so he passed those by and instead focused on the video games they had. It was an odd mash-up, either having new games or old classics, and very little in between. He plucked a title off the shelf and hummed to himself as he looked over the front and back of the box. Mass Effect 3 – oh, he’d heard terrible things about that game, the outcry after its ending resounding so far across the internet that it was impossible to miss.
Such a shame that even well-executed and fun games had to have their fatal flaws. He wondered: what ever happened to the stupid fun games used to be?
As the yearnings for days passed crossed his mind, Carmine started to feel a little uneasy. It was the sort of tense feeling that someone would get when another person would literally breathe down their neck; the way someone could just ‘feel’ someone else nearby without actually seeing them. It may have come down to Carmine’s good sense of hearing – having four ears did tend to lend itself well to such a thing – but he knew someone was nearby.
So, he turned, to try and see if maybe one of his friends was finally visible around the store. To his misfortune, no one was to be seen. The store was just as empty as when he passed through the door.
“Mm,” He hummed, turning back to place the game on the shelf.
“GWAH!”
Standing between him and the shelf, which was just barely enough space to fit her, was a young mouse girl. She stood dead calm even as she startled Carmine and made him squeal and jump, reaching out from behind her back to catch the Mass Effect 3 game case after Carmine threw it straight into the air. The Bangaa watched the odd girl as she adjusted the thick-framed glasses perched on her face so that she could read the box as well.
“Mass Effect 3,” She spoke, her voice soft, but not quiet, and monotonous, but not robotic, “So disappointing...”
Carmine stared at the girl, his blue irises the size of tiny pin-pricks. Who was she? Was she there the whole time? He hadn’t noticed her, nor did he recognize her at all. She had white fur with chocolate brown, mottled blotches in it and short black hair… or was it mid-length when it just reached the bottom of your nape? Her apparel screamed teenaged punk, with a modest, thigh-length denim skirt, some black leggings, and a purple tank top with some kind of faded band logo on it. Her glasses, thick tortoise framed with blue, offset the look having a frame with small arms that held them to the sides of her head. The bright green streak in her hair attempted to bring the look back, not to mention the extra inch of height her platform boots gave her.
She was a curvy thing too, Carmine noticed; breasts more than a handful, a dipped-in waist, round hips… she was a cutie, despite her innate creepiness.
“Perhaps this game was meant to symbolize something…” She continued, “… More than humanity’s almost futile struggle against forces stronger than itself, where no one choice ever has one perfect outcome… But that no matter how enjoyable life is, no matter how much fun you have, the choice you make at the end will hardly even matter…”
“Uhh…” Carmine cocked a crooked grin and lifted a brow.
Looking up at him, her tired, flat expression unchanging, she held the game box out to him, “I’d give it… a 7.”
“T… Thanks…” Carmine took the game hesitantly, and stepped aside to put it back on the shelf. The mouse remained, just watching him.
Finally Carmine heard a more familiar voice from behind him say, “Oops, sorry, I didn’t know you were out here.”
That voice belonged to his friend Milkie, one of the managers of that very store. Carmine turned with a relieved smile, glad to see someone other than the strange teenager who was watching him. Milkie… was pretty cute! Carmine couldn’t deny that the mouse’s small frame and boyish looks were appealing to him. He had chocolate brown fur all over save for a coffee-cream colour over his ears and down his front starting from his muzzle. He was looking decent in his own pair of jeans and black t-shirt with a Ghostbusters logo printed onto it. Of course, it was hard to ignore the way his parted brown hair and almost comically large, round glasses made his face look cute, but harder still to ignore was the custom-made pouch at the crotch of the mouse’s pants.
Seriously it looked like he was smuggling a bag of laundry in there, housing what was clearly two enormous nuts and a sheath so big that Milkie couldn’t be modest no matter how hard he tried. Carmine liked that though. He liked that a lot.
“I think the look on your face says that you met my little sister,” Milkie said as he approached, stepping past Carmine to pat the teenaged creeper on the head. Strange, for being Milkie’s ‘little sister,’ she was as tall as he was – though the boots made that comparison slightly skewed.
“Her name’s Cookie,” He explained, “And she’s going to be helping us out this summer because she pissed Mom off.”
Cookie’s expression was tough to change. She always seemed to look straight-faced and… bored. The only hint of her feelings was how she looked away from Milkie in apparent disinterest. “… If she didn’t open my closet, she never would have found out how messy my room was… And that one thing barely grazed her…” She simply said.
Carmine eyed her curiously. “Nice to meet you,” He said.
“Cookie, this is Carmine. He’s a dork, like you,” Milkie grinned and messed up his sister’s hair. She let him, and calmly flattened it back down proper when he removed his hand.
“Gee, thanks,” Carmine smirked, “Well if she’s anything like me, should she really be tending this store without you?”
“She’ll be fine,” Milkie waved his hand, “And Jon’ll be here soon, and we trust the two of them to not completely mess things up. You ready to go? Milkette ought to be waiting for us by now.”
“Oh, yeah! Yeah, sure, let’s get going,” Carmine said, and he walked with his mousie friend right towards the door, all too eager to get out and continue his afternoon.
Cookie watched them go, listening to the chip-tune chimes go off as the door swung open, then closed, and the pair were gone. She lifted a hand simply, and in her little voice just said, “Bye-bye…”
The day they had planned was a simple one: grab some lunch, hit up an arcade, and go home. They were particularly excited because good arcades were a thing of the past, credited to consoles dominating the market in the 80’s and 90’s, and most recently putting a nail in the arcade’s coffin with mobile and online gaming. No one had any reason to go out and play games in a building dedicated to it when they could easily play games anywhere they wanted – at home, on the bus, at Grandma’s… indeed, there was just no use for arcades anymore. That being said, the trio of middle-aged 80’s babies needed to get while the getting was good, before the arcade inevitably went out of business.
Milkie and Carmine would walk to the diner they agreed to meet Milkette, Milkie’s ‘sister’ (and female clone) at. As mentioned, it was a beautiful summer day, perfect for walking, with scores of people going this way and that. The Bangaa and mouse only had to go a good few blocks from the Mouse Pad to reach the diner, but they took their time, chatting up the whole way about goings on.
“… So it was like, ‘Do you want a Wii? No? You must want a Wii U. No? PS4? No. How about an Xbox One? No.’ Eventually I just asked the guy what he even came into the store for,” Milkie recounted a tale to his friend, “And then he just says he doesn’t know. Turns around and leaves just like that.”
“Wow, stupid,” Carmine grinned, folding his arms behind his head as he walked along.
Milkie laughed, “Right? And I don’t even need to tell you about the last time some huffy lady came in, saw me, and started hollering at me about ‘decency’ and junk. I’m like, ‘Lady, I’m big okay? Gawd. Like what can I do?’ You know?”
“It’s not like you can get a reduction on your nuts,” Carmine said, “… Can you?”
“No,” Milkie gave the Bangaa a flat look, “No, I can’t. And I wouldn’t even if I could.”
“Well I have, like; a million stories about my job,” Carmine continued, “Frankie attacked the castle a little while back. Fortunately Keco was still there, so we literally didn’t even notice Frankie was doing anything until we found her in pieces in one of the storerooms with Keco gnawing on her detached leg.”
Milkie looked up in thought, “You know, that would sound really morbid if I didn’t know it was completely silly. Yeah, I can only imagine what it’s like to work for Victor von Doofus. Makes my job look like getting a hummer in comparison.”
He then looked curiously at Carmine. “How’d you even get out today anyway?” He asked.
Meanwhile at the castle of Doctor Zeppelin (AKA Nori and his fat jiggle-butt).
The villainous raccoon in questionably modest orange and white spandex passed by an office in his castle, and stopped to peer in with a scrutinizing gaze. Nestled into the little office amongst a stack of papers clearly needing to be sorted through with accounts to balance and expenses to track, he could see the back of a familiar green, four-eared head. Nori grinned; at last Carmine was putting in some work! He’d only been harping at the lazy Bangaa for a whole week that things were starting to pile up.
“Working hard, handbag?” He called into the room, taking the obvious jab at his reptilian minion.
Seated in the high-back chair was not Carmine, but instead a very cheaply made, stuffed doll that looked very much like Carmine. Cotton green fabric made for an at least somewhat convincing decoy, with blue buttons sewn on for eyes and four green socks stapled to the side of the doll’s head to resemble Carmine’s ears. Even if it was thrown into Carmine’s stretchy blue minion uniform, it made for a shoddily-assembled mess that somehow, some way, managed to fool his would-be super villain boss. When Nori asked if Carmine was working hard, the doll fell forward a little; but to the raccoon it just looked like the Bangaa had hunched over his paperwork.
“Keep it up!” The inverted-colour raccoon commanded, departing from the doorway with a flick of his fluffy tail.
And back to the present...!
“I should have at least a handful of hours before he realizes,” Carmine said, “It’s fool-proof.”
“Right, right,” Milkie shrugged.
“Hey, dorklords!”
It didn’t take long upon reaching the diner for Milkette, identical clone, to call out to them. She had been waiting outside for them under the safety of a tarp draped over the store’s entryway to provide some shade for customers coming and going. She looked just like Milkie, save some obvious gender differences, and had the same chocolate fur colour and lighter off-tones. Those feminine features, however, were much more obvious. She was curvaceous as heck, and barely had her rather enormous chest all snug up in what appeared to be a cropped black tank top and an open, thin white over-shirt knotted at the bottom to expose her bare navel. Well-rounded hips topped off the hourglass curves, encased in khaki short-shorts. Sandals protected her feet and revealed that even her toes (and likely Milkie’s as well) were coloured with creamed-coffee tones.
She had longer hair though. Whereas Milkie’s was barely neck-length, hers was long enough to tickle her mid-back. She had her hair done up in a high pony tail that day though, different from her usual, and had seemingly taken a curler to the chocolate brown tresses. Her hair was complimented with a gentle, wavy flow rather than being straight as usual. Like Milkie, she wore big, round glasses over her blue eyes, and had a cute buck-toothed face.
“Thought I’d have to wait here all day,” She said, “I’m hungry!”
“Ah, you’re just the pinnacle of lady-like behavior,” Milkie called back to her as they approached.
“Don’t make me get lady-like upside your head,” Milkette she said, “And hey Carmine.”
“Hey, how’s it been?” Carmine smiled. He’d never get bored watching the two mice bicker, mostly because he knew they only did it out of some sense of fun. It was hard to tell if they both legitimately had large egos, but often times they would get all haughty over the slightest provocation only to laugh about it later. It was something they loved to incite in one another, it seemed, and so it wasn’t uncommon to see the pair tossing threats at one another.
Milkette smiled and gave Carmine a hug, just to be polite. “I can’t complain, unless Cookie managed to run my store out of business in the last three hours,” She answered, then looked to Milkie expectantly.
“She’s fine, I made sure she knows how to at least work the register and sort the merchandise,” Milkie raised a hand to wave off his twin’s concern, “So, let’s just focus on eating.”
They entered the diner and got somewhere to sit for their lunch together. A booth seat was preferable, as it was every time, and the boys sat in one side while Milkette got one of the benches to herself. Drink orders came and went, and the three of them got to talking. Subjects varied, steering away from things like work and more towards things they were looking forward to – movies, video games, and mostly just things of geek-culture and media consumption. Every one of them had been a gamer practically since birth (literally since birth in Milkette’s case), so it was no surprise that conversations tended to be dominated by that sort of topic.
The drinks returned and they made their food orders: a grilled cheese sandwich (with bacon) for Milkette, a bacon cheeseburger for Milkie, and a regular cheeseburger for Carmine.
“I’m surprised you didn’t get a hotdog,” Milkie jeered at Carmine.
“Yeah, yeah, wieners, mouth,” Carmine rolled his eyes, “Obvious joke. So, what about this arcade then?”
“It just opened up near the mall,” Milkette explained, “The owner came by last week and dropped off some home-made flyer so that I could advertise for them. Normally I’d ask people to pay for that kind of deal, but I was stoked enough about it that I kept the flyer pasted to the counter at the store for a while. Supposedly it’s pretty big; with somewhere around fifty games for people to play.”
“Prizes to win, too,” Milkie added, “And a concession stand. Menu’s lacking terribly though, so that’s why we’re eating here.”
“Sweet,” Carmine smiled, “Any idea what games they have?”
“We’ll see, but I’m totally hoping for at least one light gun game,” Milkette grinned, “I love those kinds of games.”
Milkie shot a little grin across the table at her. “Hey, me too,” He said, “Fancy that.”
“They’re pretty cool,” Carmine agreed, “I… don’t really know what I’m hoping for! I remember a lot of different games.”
“Donkey Kong,” Milkie chimed in, “Ooh, Metal Slug. Ooh! No, Ninja Turtles.”
“We’ll see when we get there, nerdlings,” Milkette said, leaning aside to look over their shoulders, “Food’s here. Eat up; you’ll need your energy for a couple hours of me kicking your asses.”
“Hey!” Carmine shot her a glare.
“You know, I know guys who’d pay for that,” Milkie grinned.
Lunch went by at a steady pace, with the trio taking their time eating since they really had no place to be other than the arcade, so there was no sense of urgency. They chatted further about other things for almost an hour until their food was done and they were set to leave. The food was good, filling, and the service was great in the modest little burger shack, so they tipped as well as they thought they could afford to on their way out the door. From there, it was one somewhat crowded bus ride to the mall.
Of course crowded bus rides were fun when you didn’t mind sitting on laps, which Milkie did enjoy. Carmine’s lap was also deceptively comfortable. Milkie’s butt was also deceptively soft.
They arrived at a building that was mostly plain… almost painfully plain, in fact. Brick walls and boring square windows housed what the sign standing outside the door called “Play It Again Arcade,” the name spelling out how it pandered to people like them: 20-some-year-old nerds with nostalgia glasses. They were willing to withhold any judgment until they saw the inside, figuring they would let the games speak for themselves. They weren’t disappointed!
Stepping inside brought them somewhere else. It wasn’t literally somewhere else, but it was still as if they had stepped through some kind of portal. The inside of the two-story building didn’t look as run-down, with a fine paint job, a patterned carpet, good lighting, and games from one end to the other. There were pinball machines set in a row against one wall, and arcade cabinets set into rows to make aisles. There was an air hockey table positioned near some quarter-operated candy machines, and skeet ball games at the far end. One pair of DDR machines made multi-coloured lights dance and made it hard to hear some of the other games even as it waited to be played. Near the entryway there was a counter, packed with candy and drinks for sale, and obvious prizes in the form of large plush toys.
Behind that counter stood one fluffy-faced, gray cat, and he grinned at the expressions on the trio’s face as they looked around. He really did live for that kind of look. “Heya!” He said in his gruff, mid-40’s voice, “You guys wanna play some games today?”
“Do I!” Carmine grinned, approaching the counter with the mice in tow.
“Right then,” The man said, looking to each one of them, “Well these machines are still the coin-operated kind. We have a change machine just by the door there, and if you guys need anything I’ll be right here waitin’. We got prizes up on the top shelf here if you get enough tickets from the skeet ball machines – makes for a cute present for your girlfriend there!”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Carmine raised a hand.
Milkette slipped up next to Carmine and hooked an arm around his waist to pull him close and smooch his cheek. “Stuffed animals really aren’t my style anyway,” She giggled.
Milkie crowded in on Carmine’s other side and kissed his other cheek. The mice sandwiched him between them for a moment, just doing their best to torment him for a second. It worked alright, as he got rather flustered by the act. Just as quickly they released their smooches and hurried off into the arcade, however, eager to play some games! The owner just kind of cocked a brow at Carmine, and the Bangaa laughed somewhat awkwardly before scurrying off after the pair of rodents.
The selection of games really was quite impressive. The group immediately hit up a Metal Slug 3 machine to sink some quarters into a near-impossible side-scrolling shoot-em’-up. They followed this up with a couple rounds of Mortal Kombat, a game which not one of them had much experience or skill with, and then Golden Axe, another 4-player game. Carmine and Milkie squeezed in a couple goes at a lesser-known game, Mega Man: The Power Battle; afterwards Milkette grabbed the Bangaa for some Double Dragon. Of course between bouts of group and pair play, they wandered off to do their own thing solo if they had to wait. Donkey Kong, Golden Tee Golf and a wealth of pinball machines awaited the lonely gamer while they waited for their friends.
For an outdated way to pass time, the arcade had a fair few customers. Most of them were younger kids, probably the select few who had gamer parents. There weren’t any teenagers to be seen, a testament to the fact that times had changed. Back in the 80’s and even the 90’s, teenagers were the most frequent to arcades just like that one. People used to crowd around machines and wait their turn to play. Play It Again didn’t seem to suffer from this problem – most machines were free to play at any moment in time.
Eventually they all found themselves at the DDR machines. Not one of them would dare jump onto it and play a few songs. They did a lot of looking at one another, but no dancing. Milkie and Milkette didn’t have the body for dancing – two things above the girl’s waist and two things below the boy’s made such games nigh impossible. Carmine just didn’t have the care for it, never having jumped into games like those. He’d argue it was all too much moving around, where he’d much rather sit (or stand in an arcade’s case) with a joystick instead.
“Well… this game sucks,” Milkie said.
“Yup,” Carmine nodded.
“… Another go on the Ninja Turtles machine?” Milkette asked.
As they stepped away to head across the arcade, a sudden bust of smoke caught their attention. Right at the entrance, it seemed as if a small bomb went off, spraying smoke all over a small area that rapidly dissipated. The trio stopped in their walk, staring at the odd happening, and their eyes collectively widened when a figure appeared to be standing in the smoke. When it disappeared, the figure appeared to be a cat dressed in a white ninja outfit. It was obviously a female, the get-up hugging her body tightly. From what could be seen of her fur, it appeared to be blue. Everyone seemed to stare at her as she stood in an extravagant pose.
Carmine blinked a few times before speaking up, “Uh… Hey Shiroga.”
The feline ninja blinked a few times as well and seemed to straighten up quickly. “Nani?! What are you doing here?!” She gasped.
The doors to the building flew open as Nori, the spandex-clad, feminine raccoon of a strangely backwards colour scheme (a light mask on dark fur) came barreling through. “I missed the cue! I missed it! I told you to wait until I was ready!” He bellowed to the ninja, who shrunk away in meek apology.
That was when Nori took pause as well, his one visible eye past his swept hair glancing across the arcade floor to Carmine and the mice. “Wait, what are you doing here?!” He shouted, “How did you--?! When did you…?”
Carmine looked rather nervous, poised to take off if anything were to happen. He swallowed as all the attention in the arcade shifted onto him – even Milkie and Milkette stared at him just to see how he’d get out of it. “I… uh… went ahead when I heard you were coming here, boss… to… do… the thing…!” Carmine sputtered.
Nori’s amber eye stared at Carmine with terrible doubt. He stood, arms crossed, shifting his weight from one leg to the next. “Uh huh… Well, did you find it then?” He asked.
“Find what?” Carmine blinked.
“Hey uh… buddy?” The owner, who had cowered behind the desk when Shiroga made her entrance, finally lifted his head high enough to see the odd pair who had just entered. “Are you here to play games?”
Turning his attention to the man, Nori marched up to the counter and planted his hands firmly on his hips. “The only game I have come to play is the game of your doom!” He announced, “For I, Doctor von Zeppelin, have come to acquire--”
He stopped his villainous tirade short when he caught sight of a particular plush sitting behind the counter. It was a large, stuffed raccoon with shiny eyes seated high on a shelf, staring out over the arcade and just waiting for some lucky youngster to win it. Naturally Nori took notice of it because he, too, was a raccoon, but it wasn’t a surprise for him… rather, he pointed straight at the plush toy and glared at the arcade owner. “That!” He shouted, “You will relinquish that into my possession or suffer the very dire consequences!”
So many brows furrowed in the arcade at once upon hearing Nori’s declaration – even Carmine’s, though this sort of thing shouldn’t have surprised him.
The owner likewise stared at Nori in disbelief. “Uh huh… Listen, I’m just going to make a call real quick,” He said, reaching beneath the counter to produce a cordless telephone.
Nori snapped to attention, and with an elaborate swing of his arm he gestured to the owner. “Shiroga, the 63rd Ray Gun!” He commanded.
Everyone in the arcade watched as the white-clad ninja-cat seemed to whip a goofy-looking, very 80’s sci-fi ray gun out of nowhere. She took aim at the owner, who was so shocked he couldn’t react, and fired it. A rather jagged, yellow beam of light shot from the antennae-like tip of the gun and struck the owner like a thunderbolt, causing him to stiffen up and drop the phone onto the floor. A sudden flash of light forced the audience to look away or shield their eyes. It only lasted a couple of seconds at most, and then there was silence.
When people started looking once more, it appeared the owner had been changed. Rather than a pudgy 40-something male feline, he appeared to have transformed into… a pudgy, 40-something female feline wearing men’s clothing. His… or her features were spot on in almost every way save for the fact that she was now a woman. It didn’t take her long to realize this, and she let out such a shriek before grabbing at herself with her paws desperately to see if all her parts were still there. She was hysterical, and the lookers-on likewise gasped and murmured amongst themselves.
In the confusion, it seemed Shiroga had snatched up the child-sized raccoon plushy, and had just leaped back over the counter to land at Nori’s side. With nothing short of serious expressions, Shiroga handed the doll off to Nori, and Nori took it into his arms and held it in such a manner that he resembled a big, huffy kid who was ready to leave with all his toys. Shiroga seemed to wait until he did just that, clutching the strange gender-swapping ray gun and aiming it all around at innocent bystanders who gasped and sometimes attempted to duck or shield themselves from the weapon… all except for Carmine, Milkie, and Milkette, who just watched the whole thing in cynical disbelief.
“We leave!” Nori announced, flipping his hair as he turned to march. Shiroga followed him, and they made it to just the door before Nori turned back around. “Carmine!” He shouted, “Back to the castle! I swear that paperwork hasn’t budged since you got started working on it, and I expect it done by tonight!”
Carmine slumped his shoulders, “Ugh…”
“Seriously? Did Nori seriously just raid an arcade for one of the kids’ prizes?” Milkette asked, gesturing towards the raccoon. Her entire expression screamed “do you see this shit?”
“Yup…” Milkie nodded slowly, then pat Carmine on the shoulder, “Like getting a hummer in comparison. What a way to end it! That’s all, folks!”
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