I.M. Meen: The Lost Video Game: Difference between revisions
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Hello. My name is Ignatious Mortimer Meen, and I live inside of a garbage can. Just kidding. That's Oscar the Grouch, and I am not Ignatious Mortimer Meen at all. However, I did encounter him one day in his video game form, and
I first encountered the Burger King Impossible Whopper at a yard sale at my grandpappy's house. Grandpappy had passed on, and by that, I mean he moved out without telling us where he moved and he left off his haunted estate because, according to his will-but-not-a-will-because-supposedly-he-wasn't-actually-dead, he hated us. Fine by me. I didn't like the old bastard anyway. I took a bite out of the Impossible Whopper that my mother bought me because she's a hippie vegan and it was O.K. I guess but it tasted kind of like peanuts and I had a peanut allergy. I started convulsing and farting and vomiting and I fell on the grass and vomited and farted and shit my pants some more. The police came by and arrested me. After interrogating me, accusing me of being homeless despite my mama's insistence that I was her baby, and kicking me out of the homeless shelter for misidentifying on a racial identification form for an evaluator job at Western Governors University online many a year ago, I was back at the yard sale, but I was walking on crutches and the homeless shelter doctor had prescribed me beano for my unrelentable gas. Mama Hatler (that's our last name) was just about to pop her car keys into her car keyhole when she remembered something that would scar me for the rest of my life, thanks mom.
"Your grandfather wanted you to have something better you died, Alfie.", she said. Alfalfa is my first name. Remember, my mother is a vegan hippie hipster. "I just found it in the glove compartment." She beckoned me to come over and
The title screen popped up on the monitor. I was scared. I.M. Meen? As in, I am Mean? What sort of message was that supposed to send children? Assuming this game was for children, as all video games are for children and do not qualify as art. It walked through an intro in which an elderly old librarian who seemed to have a strange obsession with children sang and danced about wanting to lock children up in a labyrinth for knowing how to read. I noticed by his skin pigment that he was likely Hispanic, but I don't see race so I'm not sure. "Oh look, what clever children, see them study, watch them learn. How I hate those goody goodies, how they make me stomach turn." Maybe the guy should just try not being around kids? Did you know that Dr. Seuss actually hated children? Seriously, look it up.
I started playing the game and it was a first person shooter DOOM knockoff, except you had to correct the spelling of shit instead of blow apart imps with a super shotgun. I got kind of bored pretty quickly until I noticed
They were all pictures of my grandfather, reenacting scenes from various American wars. Was this supposed to be some sort of sick joke? There was my grandfather telling the French that he wouldn't help them, even though they're responsible for securing American freedom. There was my granddad telling Stonewall Jackson to go ram his dick up against a stonewall and report his findings about what happened to his reproductive organs to a private. There was grampy himself telling Harry S. Truman that Operation Super Mario was going to be a huge success. I put my keyboard down, and by that, I mean I slammed it to the ground. Operation Super Mario? Get real. This game had me up until that, but no.
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A cutscene that I would never forget. For the rest of my life.
It was I.M. Meen, but he
I tried on a pair of Batman underwear. They felt good. Fit all nice and smug. It makes me feel like a super hero when I wear Batman underwear. "Blood Marty", I said to the mirror. Nothing. Hmm. Must have had to try again. "Bloody Marty", I said again. Still nothing. What the fuck was this? O.K. One more time. One more time and if it did not work, I would go home. "Bloody Marty!", I screamed. "Shut the fuck up in there!", the dressing room attendant yelled. I was going to extend a middle finger out of the door and right into his face
I was dizzy. The whole world was dizzy. I threw up again. I knew Kmart was going out of business and that wouldn't help their image, but I threw up even more. I closed my eyes. I was too dizzy. It was like when I was a little kid and would spin around in circles and pretend I'd reawake in Pistachioland, a magical land in which everything tasted like pistachios, including the people and it was socially acceptable to eat people because they always reappeared in the next panel. But no. I was not in Pistachioland. I was not in Pistachioland at all.
I was
The magical labyrinth of I.M. Meen!?!?
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Grandad!?!?!?
I reached out to hug him. It had been so very long. Two full days! But grandpa broke my heart. He broke my heart instead. He shoved me away. "Here's a rhyme for you. Ahem. I knew a gay little grandson who tried not to go to school, but he got good grades so I moved away and disowned him."
"That's right, you little shit. It is
Let's do the time
And that's when it all hit me. For real, this time. I didn't have a peanut allergy. I never had a peanut allergy. Who had told me I had had a peanut allergy? Fake grandpa. Not my real grandfather. I.M. Meen. I.M. Meen had captured my real grandfather. I.M. Meen had been mindcontrolling me by claiming that I had an allergic reaction to peanuts as a placebo! "Fuck you, I. M. Meen!", I yelled. I grabbed a letter 'h' from the wall and threw it at him, but as a sorcerer he cast a spell and a spew of brown crusty waste splashed it away and into my face. I never knew a fucking h could hurt so much.
As for what happened next? I.M. Meen zapped me in the mouth next. It tasted like chocolate, but it wasn't chocolate at all. It was a teleportation device. My cells crushed into quantum bits and I died before re-emerging in a
"I always was a kid at heart.", grandfather muttered under his breath.
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