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John Mistur

Space Invaders

I'm driving home from Highlands grocery in Big Blue, my family’s luxury van, and flip open my Motorola phone to call Little Joe. “Where are you dude?”

“Where are you? I've been in front of your house waiting, Jackass.”

“Relax. I'm coming around the corner,” I tell him.

“Hurry!” he yells. He's very anxious to get to a brand-new arcade that opened up in North Olmsted, only twenty minutes away. Our plan was to meet at my house after work and spend Friday night checking out the place.

I come to a screeching halt right next to his red Honda Accord that's outside my house. I hold down the horn in the middle of the road. “Joe!” I scream out the window. “Let's go!”

We don't even stop inside to greet my parents, and Joe slips into the cushy blue bucket seat on the passenger side, holding chili cheese Fritos and a bottle of iced tea.

“Are you ready for this shit? I'm going to kick your ass in Cruis’n USA racing,” I say, taking a verbal swing at him.

“You suck dude. Let's see what you got,” he swings back.

I turn the rock up on the radio, and we begin the journey to our young adult playground.

“So, Joe,” I say. “The crazy dairy guy sold me a joint for five dollars. It's going to be so awesome to play stoned.”

“Hell, yes! I was wondering if you had any pot. I'll get in the Zone and kick your ass even more.”

Once we get up to the main road in North Olmsted, I reach into my work shirt chest pocket and grab my Marlboro lights pack, flipping them open toward Joe. “Spark it up dude,” I say. 

He grabs the jaybird out of the pack. I light my own smoke first before he rips the lighter out of my hand so he can start puffing.

We pull into the gravel parking lot where there's one row of parking spots for patrons. I park the van at the very end, next to a green dumpster in the shadows so we can continue puffing incognito.

The white warehouse building takes up half the block with a twenty-foot wall. In the middle there's a single door with tinted windows. Above the shady door, there's a glowing cheap marquee that says “Space Invaders” with red squiggly spray paint. 

We finish half the joint, foot race to the door as fast as we can, and he holds the door open for me. I'm feeling light-headed and dizzy as we walk into the arcade. There are games everywhere from wall to wall. Bright spectrums of light illuminating from the video screens make my eyes squint when I stop to watch a zombie's head get blown off in the game in front of me. The Uzi the guy is using is vibrating, and the loud gunshots sound real.

We go deeper into the arcade and explore. There's a row of new pinball machines, fantasy adventure games, and fighting games like Mortal Kombat. Old classics like Galaga, Pac-Man and, yes, Space Invaders. There's a couple of pool tables in one area and another back room with more games.

The place is busy with people pounding buttons, smoking cigarettes, and cheering when they win but bang the machine when they lose. There's so much stimulation from pinballs dinging off bunkers to pool balls cracking from fresh break. Our minds are blown, and we just found our second home.

“Cruis’n USA racing is open!” Joe yells.

“Let's get some quarters and play.”

“Don't bother.” He grabs my shoulder, stopping me. “I hoooooook you up bro!” he shouts. Out of his pocket he pulls a roll of quarters he got from the pawn shop he works at and hands them over.

“Nice, dude! That is the hook up. Now get ready to die.”

We both sit down, side by side, at Cruis’n for our first race. We rip into our quarter rolls like candy in an Easter basket. This game is great because we each get our own steering wheel, video screen, and driving pedals, just like a real race car!

We can race head-to-head, choosing our own cars. I choose an orange mustang muscle car, while he chooses a red Lamborghini for speed. We start the race with a powerful boost from our souped-up engines as we blast off into ridiculous high speeds through iconic American backroads.

The environments change rapidly across the screen as we start out in the Redwood Forest. We’re neck and neck going through giant Redwood trees, and suddenly everything transforms. Now we're driving through a sun setting pastel sky cruising through the Grand Canyon. The Lamborghini pulls ahead of me most of the way, but I'm waiting for my moment to catch up and strike him down. Going further down the west coast of America, we avoid police down the Las Vegas strip, and finally end up driving next to a beach in Los Angeles. We dodge pedestrians walking on the boardwalk, because they will slow us down if we hit them. The finish line approaches, so I push the gas pedal down to the floor, bumping the bumper of Joe’s Lamborghini. I drive next to him with my Mustang, and quickly turn my steering wheel toward him to knock his stupid Lamborghini right off the screen. Victory is mine!

“Boo yeah! Beat my ass even more, huh?” I razz him.

“Oh, come on, you cheated!” he cries.

When we finished racing, there are so many other gaming options, but we decide to run over to the pinball row; we both really want to play the new ‘Attack from Mars’ pinball machine. We alternate turns, trying to strategically paddle our shiny silver ball up ramps and green shaking alien targets. Whoever gets the most points and gets further along in the game wins.

Joe is kicking my butt so far and keeps getting the ball up the ramp around the giant plastic UFO ship that sits in the middle of the ramps. Once he gets the ball up the ramp twice on each side, the UFO ship’s door opens.

“The door's open, Joe! Can you do it?” I taunt.

“I know! Shut up! I got this,” he yells.

The ball rolls down a ramp, placing the ball right by his paddle so he can hold the ball.  He lines it up and the ball is B-lining right inside the UFO’s door.

KaBoom! The ship blows up and shakes like crazy while strobe lights go off, earning Joe millions of points.

“I told you! I suck it Ston!” he says.

This was an ample opportunity for us to beat our favorite fantasy action game, ‘Golden Axe’.   

This is not an easy feat, but we have the time and quarters. We head into the back room where there is a huge machine cabinet with a sixty-inch video screen. The visuals are stunning and there is also surround sound for an up-close experience against the horde of enemies. 

The giant machine also has four control sticks and separate buttons that allow up to four players to play at once. We can choose different character classes and play as a team to save the world from the terrifying dragon. Joe chooses the buff warrior with a blue loin cloth that holds the mighty ax, while I choose the dark purple hoodie wizard that throws ice balls and fireballs. He also has healing powers.

We spend the next couple hours button mashing, killing ogres with sledgehammers, and screeching goblins with crossbows deep inside a spooky forest. The environment changes and now we go down into some caves with bone throwing skeletons and giant killer bats coming down from the ceiling. Those bees are no match for my fireballs.

We press the buttons frantically, killing everything on the screen that's in our way. Finally, we get to the final boss, which is a huge red over-gorged dragon sitting in a room full of gold. The big badass monster fills the whole entire screen!

He breathes fire at us and tries biting our heads off with his ferocious jaw. This is not easy, and we keep dying over and over, but Joe and I are persistent. We pop in the rest of the quarters from our rolls. We're grinding away at the beast lowering his hit point meter. I'm throwing ice balls rapidly while Joe gouges the dragon in the neck with his huge, jeweled ax.   

Things are getting intense. We're grunting and slapping the buttons even harder when the chubby dragon roars his last ferocious flame. His overweight, lifeless body thumps to the ground.

“Screw you, fat dragon!” I yell as we celebrate and give each other high fives.  The fantasy world is saved from evil, thanks to our valiant efforts. We lean back and light up a smoke as we watch the credits roll like at the end of a movie.

“Let's go outside to celebrate more. Let’s smoke the rest of this joint,” I suggest.

We head outside into the dark quiet night and hang out next to Big Blue. I light the joint and take a big puff, forming a smoke ring, and then I start coughing.

“I can't believe we beat Golden Ax!” Joe says.

“I know, right? The way I finished it off with my ice balls!”

“Whatever dude. My warrior had the spinning ax move that finished him!” Joe says.

“No. Ice beats fire. Everyone knows that.”

“I'm pretty sure I chopped off his head,” he insists.

We may never know who actually killed the overweight dragon, but it doesn't matter. Space Invaders was everything we wanted, and we barely scratched the surface. We had so much fun bonding, and competing against each other. If Space Invaders was actually my second home, then I better be sure to have the keys. That way we can throw a giant party and play all the video games for free.

Author: John Yusuf

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