Mastery

MASTERY

I will never tell you this, but...

...The final boss of this game has a super-easy pattern to figure out. If there's one thing you should learn from all your time hanging out in my basement it's this: it's all math. Just numbers. Numbers and patterns. That's it. Learn that, and there's nothing you can't beat.

I've made it to level 256 on Pac Man, which locks up the game. Donkey Kong? Busted it. Galaga? Gone. Joust? Junk. Congo Bongo? Conquered. Bosconian? Busted. Tempest? Totaled. There's no game yet that I've not mastered.

It's because of my mind. Cold. Analytical. Obsessed with the zeroes and ones of the Video Age. It's like I'm a machine myself. I've crafted my environment for optimum efficiency and performance. Temperature and humidity control. Low light. Custom air filtration system. There's a toilet built into my chair. All my food is blended and liquefied, and Mom whips it up for me. Whenever I need it.

Friends? Who needs friends? I'm not your friend. I don't have friends. You don't crack friends. You don't master them. You do not want them.

You want mastery. Unapologetic mastery. And this is the key: math. Numbers. Numbers and patterns. Zeroes and ones. Dominate them, and this world is yours.

Look around and ask yourself. Look around! Isn't this what you want in your life?

[Author's Note: the first line of this story was the prompt for this writing exercise.]