"Chubby chicken!" my brother shouted loudly as he was mounted on my back (piggy back), and slapping my stomach as I ran through a supermarket, scaring the elderly and possibly traumatizing children. Now, a sane person would look at this and ask...why?, and I would tell that 'voice of reason', a very simple answer. It's because we're idiots... and maybe a little drunk.

I exited the store with my brother, laughing between deep breaths from the previous running. I lit a cigarette the moment I was beyond the automatic glass doors. The sun was staggeringly bright this evening, so I looked down. I noticed an advertisement discarded in the bustling parking lot. I picked up the ad for my favorite breakfast cereal, and motioned to capture my brothers attention.

"They're suspiciously delicious!" I parodied the beloved jingle.

He chuckled at my awful stereotypical accent, then looked at his watch.

"Ah, shit I gotta go do sumthin', le's bounce" He motioned towards his girlfriends car. "Hop in."

"Your ol' lady at work?" I asked.

"Yeah, I dropped her off 'cuz I need the whip to, uh.... run an errand." He said with a smirk that spelled trouble.

My brother was a good guy, but sometimes he did bad things. Nothing diabolical or purely evil. But when you think of a good guy, my older brother doesn't make the top ten list. But, hey ..he's my brother. I get in the car and adjust the seat. I've never understood the whole positioning it back till your practically in the back seat thing.

"Why you sit like G-ma goin' to church 'n shit?" He sneered.

"I mean it's uncomfortable to me, and im not a frikkin' astronaut dude!" I exclaimed "T minus fuck you, Randy"

My brother let out a deep belly laugh, and the sports car peeled off from the supermarket parking lot.

-----

As the sports car pulled into the abandoned alleyway, the music could be heard changing from Tupac, to Slipknot. An extreme change orchestrated by yours truly, the chubby guy in the equally varied clothing consisting of clashing styles. Such as, Tripp pants, skate shoes, a tall tee, and fitted NY cap.

"Dude, pick a fuckin' genre!" Randy griped.

"I like almost everything, I'm eclectic" I spoke in an informative tone.

"Yo, it just takes alot of music to fill that fathead of yours" Randy grinned, in a sportive way, as if scoring a point in a battle of insults I was unaware we were in.

I couldn't really reply anyway because the man insulting me had no physical flaws I could use to my advantage. He was 6foot tall, buzz cut hair, brown eyes with a lean but muscular build. He had several tattoos and this was public knowledge because I dont think my brother even knows what a shirt is. I doubt he could spell it either. For my brothers gift of muscles and handsomeness, balance demanded a sacrifice. Although my brother was street smart, books were not his friend.

"Big is beautiful" I replied, to finish my retort I added, "Asshole."

I was a fat kid, no doubt about it. I dont ever think there was a time in my life when i could call myself little, but I didn't mind too much. I was charismatic with a drink or two, so I didn't have much trouble with the girls, and a 22-year lifetime of being overweight gave me the muscular, yet chubby physique of a line-backer who needed to miss a meal or two.

The lanky guy in the alley was the 'errand' my brother was speaking about. The kid looked about 19, had a green tee shirt and loose fashionable jeans on with skate shoes that looked more expensive than mine. His facial features were true to his lanky body and his skateboard rested against the dark red brick wall to his left. A few feet away, at the opening of the alley were a few boys dressed in the same style, playing handheld consoles and chatting inaudibly. Randy and I, approached the lanky one and as my brother began to speak in his tough guy manner, I found myself wondering what game the guys in the distance were playing.

My attention was snapped back to the task at hand, as my Randy snatched the lanky guy up by the shirt and pinned him to the wall.

"We shouldn't cause a kerfuffle" I spoke eyeing the few guys in the distance, who were diverting their attention from their handhelds, to the scene going on in the narrow alley.

"What tha fuck is a kerfluffle?!" My brother looked genuinely puzzled.

"Randy, wanna focus on the ....whatever this is!" I stressed

"This is a matter of paying what he owes" my brother spoke through clenched teeth and an intimidating glare.

"Yo, I sold my MMO account to get the bread, but dude was trippin' man." The lanky teen pleaded... possibly in English. "All I got was a few bills, an' sum ticket to a beta test dawg."

"Ey, Bruno." My brother said addressing me by name. "Run his pockets"

I was well aware the guys at the opening of the alley had surely called the cops by now, so I grabbed the contents of lanky's pockets which consisted of one Flick lighter, half a box of menthol cigarettes, and an envelope holding $47 cash. Also in the envelope, was a ticket made of quality paper with gold lettering in exquisite calligraphy. I was turning to the car when my brother let go of lanky's shirt, and I heard him issue a warning to 'have the money next time I see you' and then we were gone. In the car I couldn't help but chuckle as I retrieved the cash out of the envelope and handed it to Randy, then pocketed the ticket for my troubles.

"What's so funny?!" He prodded

"What tha fuck is a kerfluffle" I mocked my brothers oddly timed inquiry

"Fuck you Fathead!" he seethed.

-----

From the ages of 12 thru 16, I was raised by my father in a crack house until I was old enough to legally emancipate. After I would get ready for school, I would eat my (suspiciously delicious) cereal in the dining room, while killers of men women and children, were passed out in the living room. When I arrived 'home' from school I'd play Frikkin' fantasy 7 on the p.s.s.1 my father had traded a controlled substance for, but failed to procure a memorycard so I never got past disc 1. Across the street lived a beautiful young girl who would sneak over and tap on my window. Thinking back on it I imagine she knew the conditions I lived in, but we would still play video games and talk all night. She moved away one day and the last night I saw her she never said she was moving, and I was oblivious that it was our last encounter. Since I was assuming I'd see her the next day, I never got to say goodbye. One thing I learned about the world, from a view at the rock bottom of it, is that this world is truly 'beautifully ugly'.

-----

My currently 22 year old self was powering down my ybox 360, and sipping from a travel mug of coffee, when I came across the Beta test ticket from the night before. It was placed on my dresser next to my usual place to drop my wallet and keys. The quality paper felt smooth and thick in my hand as I traced the edge with my finger. The gold font was really a nice touch, giving it a sophisticated, possibly regal look. Below the address, it read:

The holder of this ticket is invited to claim your place in gaming history, and experience the greatest adventure in this world, or the next!

"Or the next?" I inquired aloud. "Guess these guys have a flare for the dramatic."

As I looked up the address, I found it to be a uncomfortable walking distance from my rent controlled, loft apartment. This was unfortunate because I had my license just no car. When I was an emancipated minor, I never had a parent's insurance to be under. So Insuring the car was equal to an average car payment, and thus impractical when factored with rent, and other living expenses. Fortunately the small state of Delaware had public buses, though not particularly the most luxurious means of travel, they were somewhat reliable. I strapped the worn, but not tattered, skate shoes on my stocking feet and I moved them to the road. Once out on 4th street, that I imagined was the topic of a few local rap songs, distant shouts and industrial noises could be heard from my location. Not wanting to linger, even though I only had $20 and a Dragon Sphere Z fan sketch (dont judge me) to my name, and if I wanted to keep them, I better get out of this neighborhood.

Arriving at my destination, several blocks away, I noticed the address certainly did not match the elegance of the card. There was no company name, not even a logo or any identifying markings at all on the small outlet-shop-style building that looked like it would sell counterfeit shoes.

"Well, this place looks shady....I'm out" I muttered to myself, after staring at the anonymous storefront a few moments.

Just then a very buxom young lady walked past in buisness-blouse, a very tight skirt that met her dark nylons several inches above her knee, atop a pair of very impractically high-heeled shoes that possibly cost more than my entire 'goth-gangster' outfit. She held a cardboard carrier with 4 store bought cups of coffee, and confidently entered the suspicious looking building. Feeling foolish for getting so paranoid, I waited a moment so I didn't look like i was stalking Ms. Nylons, flicked away my cigarette, and nonchalantly opened the door.

Inside the building looked like a standard run-of-the-mill tax office that opens up for a few months in some outlet mall. I stood in a reception area and lobby, adjacent to a few bespectacled beauties sitting in reception. I looked around and saw commercial carpeting, and several prefabbed cubicle's and looked like only 2 offices with full sized wall's and a dark cherry wooden doors. A small operation at best, probably a pop up game designer making side scrollers and retro 8bit games to keep the lights on, I thought to myself. As my eyes were wandering around, they met with Ms. Nylons' now sitting behind the reception desk with a cup of coffee and a smile that could melt the icecaps.

"Al gore was right" I whispered to myself.

"Uhm... excuse me?" She asked, presenting a puzzled look.

"Huh? Oh... nothing" I recovered, "I received this beta ticket."

I produced the fancy ticket, and handed it to her. She accepted it with grace, shuffled a few papers and returned a clipboard, with a few standard forms like you would receive at a small medical facility.

"Am I here for a beta test, or a physical?" I asked sarcastically.

"Please have a seat, and fill those out" she chuckled gesturing to the few chairs by the entrance.

As I sat down on the most uncomfortable chair I've ever sat in, something like a mosquito bite pinched my neck, for only an instant. My hand slapped at my neck in reflexive response. I started to fill out my name when I began to feel a bit light-headed, and suddenly my eyes were too heavy for me to keep open. The last thing I remember, the lights faded to black and the busy office ambiance, reduced to whispers, then silence.