Matt and a few others were getting the TV, computer, speakers,
DVD and VHS hook-ups all wired and working when I found them.
Lots of "Jesus! Goddamn!" kind of profanity erupting
at odd intervals amid the mountain of electronics they had soldered
together. They were busy but they said that it was okay for me
to watch some TV or play some Dreamcast.
I put in Marvel
VS Capcom II and proceded to kick the combined asses of Cable,
Magneto, Stryder Ryu, Wolverine, the Resident Evil Chick, Chun-Li,
Mega Man, 'Gief and the bitch Cammy. It was fun, but way too
damn easy for this Rossman. I would even choose the pussiest
characters and not use any 24+ Hit Combos, but I still blew everyone
away. Then I started taking challengers from Crew Greenwood.
I wiped the floor with them! No matter who stood up to the task
I found it my duty as all round Capcom Fighter Champ to drill
them each a new one. After 20 or so rounds of victory I allowed
them to put in Capcom VS SNK Fighters (or whatever
the hell it's called). I liked the dude in the red hat, but except
for the skank Mai, I really didn't know any of the SNK guys and
decided to let someone else have some digital fun. It was for
the best as my thumbs were sore and there were more bottles to
Sir Robin gets attacked by
a ferocious beast. It was a Kodak moment.
"So a bunch of us were
putting all the wiring together for the Monoplex Greenwood Theater
and to hook up the whole house with speakers, when the Rossman
just saunters (yes, I said 'saunters') in and fuckin' collapses
in the middle of the room. I was like, 'What the fuck?', but
nobody else said anything and they just ignored him in his drunken
state of apathy.
"But ignoring a drunk
and bored Rossman is pretty hard to do in reality. Soon he was
fuckin' with the TV set up and trying to turn the Dreamcast on
so he could, and I quote, 'Kick some serious chick ass in a goddamn
X-Files game.' We assumed he meant 'X-Men', so I put in Marvel
VS Capcom II to shut him the hell up. Well, basically he
sucks. I'm sure he'd suck even worse if he was sober, but knowing
him we'd never find out that night.
"After he threw a couple
of hissy fits and threatened the TV with his shoe we had to take
turns pretending to play him and we made damn sure that he won
to keep another patented Rossman Tantrum from destroying yet
another Greenwood party before it began. Why, if I had a rubber