The other day, our friends Alex and Jen invited us up to their loft to play this new racing game for the Wii. We were a little leery about going (Jen kept yelling things like "Waaaah! Super horn!" and "Shortcut cheat!," which was weird), but they promised us it was kart racing "with attitude," so we went anyway. It was okay, we guess. You could ride planes and cars and stuff (Jen was really excited about riding bananas for some reason), but when Alex and Jen kept yelling random competitive cliches in between these weird clinical explanations of powerups, we got kind of freaked out and started checking our watches.
Things got a little uncomfortable when Alex threatened to make Jen cry like a little girl, and when she replied with a confident "Bring. It. On," we knew it was probably time to call it a night and quietly excused ourselves from their apartment. On our way out, we heard Alex creepily mumbling about "the sweet taste of victory" under Jen's nonsense shouting. They've already called us to see if we want to hang out next weekend for a "rematch," but uh, we think we're probably busy then.