"40-love," Mario announced through the CRT's built-in speakers. "Match point. Wario advantage."
"Aw, hell," Laios said, eyebrows pinched inwards. His head fell back in Chilchuck's lap, collar clanging.
"I thought you were good at video games," Chilchuck snickered, feathering some hair off Laios' forehead and flicking it square in the middle. "This is getting kinda sad, to be honest."
"I AM good," Laios protested. "I soloed the Stygian Zinogre in Monster Hunter 3U."
"More like Monster Hunter PU," Chilchuck jeered. "Match point. You better get serious."
"I AM serious," Laios ground out. "I'm just--these N64 controllers are NOT ergonomic, I hate to say. Why are there three prongs like a claw? Am I supposed to grow a third hand out of my chest Alien-style just to use the thumbstick?"
"My hands are about a third the size of yours," Chilchuck grinned. "And I'm beating your ass. Seems like an excuse. Like the kids might say--"
"Don't," Laios warned. "Ugh. I shouldn't've picked Bowser," Laios made the hulking turtle beast toss the tennis ball up to serve and letting it fall back into his claw. Chilchuck scooted Wario back and forth on the other side of the net, taunting him. "He's so slow."
"Just learn how to track the ball. Don't move until you know where it's going. You can also do a dash-hit, if you hold the--"
"I know how to dash-hit, sir." Laios took in a deep breath. "Okay. Service. Here we go." Bowser tosses the tennis ball upwards, readying a swing.
"Whatever you say, puppy," Chilchuck smarms, dropping his controller on Laios' scalp to get back to the game. Laios times the button press perfectly and serves it cleanly into Chilchuck-Wario's side of the court, a violet afterimage following the 2D-rendered ball. Laios chuckles darkly as Wario's little feet scuttle from the other side of the court, having gotten distracted with his boot-scooting, and--CRACK. Wario dives and sends the ball in a high arc over Bowser's crown of polygonal horns.
"No!" Laios cries. The ball thunks a good foot away from the out-of-bounds line and a Koopa burbles out an indecipherable call.
"Game, Set and Match," Mario declares. "Wario WIN."
"Alright, I hate retro games," Laios malds, dropping the controller on his chest. A deeply disenfranchised teenage boy inside him wanted to throw it, but he wouldn't do that to one of Chilchuck's mementos. "If it doesn't run at sixty frames per second I don't want it.
"Looo-ser," Chilchuck boos. "Sorry there's no aim assist, pal. That's how we did things in the old days."
"I DON'T need AIM ASSIST," Laios hissed.
"But you're blaming the controller. What else would it be but a-"
Chilchuck bent over Laios in his lap, cradling his face. Haloed by the wobbly overhead fan light, Chilchuck gave him the widest, shittiest grin. Even in the worst grips of his rage, the sight of Chilchuck's smile made Laios freeze and go dumb, like a deer facing down an F-150 on a tight overpass.
Laios wrapped his arms around Chilchuck's neck and somersaulted him onto the floor.
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