Russian RouletteFebruary 5, 2007
Exerpt from the diary of Onder Skall (Second Life Games)
After several hours we realize that there is just no way to kill each other here. My hatred for that bastard Rudy is as strong as his for me, but hatred alone won’t settle this. We quit blasting each other with useless push guns and look for a way to die in the SL world. The next thing I know, we’re staring at each other across a scripted Russian Roulette table.
“So, this is it. It ends here,” Rudy growls.
“Looks like it.”
Rudy and I don’t agree on much, but neither one of us likes alt accounts. Whoever dies here would be out of SL for good. Our feud has spanned the metaverse from way back in LambdaMOO, all the way through Ultima Online, Star Wars Galaxies, World of Warcraft, and a half-dozen other worlds. The original reason forgotten by us both, we’ve given each other hundreds of excuses over the years to wipe the other guy out.
More than anything though, after all these years, we just want the damned fight to be over. We need one winner and one loser. We need a final fight.
I ante up, grab the revolver, take aim at my temple, and pull the trigger.
I shake my head, not with releif, but with a vague sense of disappointment that I have to share the metaverse with that scum Rudy for another few minutes. “Good luck buddy,” I joke as I slide the revolver accross the rough-hewn wooden table top. “Shut up Onder,” he spits. He checks the gun over to make sure I didn’t tamper with it (we’ve both pulled stunts like that in the past), puts it to his temple, and pulls.
He smiles. “Like the suit? You should see the the bike I have to go with it.” He and I have been arguing over who is the biggest Tron fan for years now. I don’t really care all that much about Tron, but it’s the principle. “Storebought avs don’t impress me Rudy. Wait until you see the bike arena I’m building.” Secretly I’m grateful that one of us will be dead before he can call my bluff. I don’t have the land for something like that.
I bet, aim, take a breath, and…
Rudy bets, this time big, takes aim, pulls:
If he thinks he can intimidate me by raising the stakes he’s got another thing coming. I plant a big wad of Lindens in the pot and smile as I pull the trigger.
Rudy goes for broke, hoping to bankrupt me into giving up. I open a browser window and start to mess around with Paypal to get some extra L$, and flick back to the SL viewer just in time to see him pull the trigger.
It’s over so suddenly that I find myself in a state of shock. Rudy’s on the floor. My hands are numb with adrenaline but I manage to fumble at the keyboard enough to walk over to his body. He’s really dead. It’s over. After all of these years of fighting in metaverses where nothing is ever finally decided and nobody is ever gone for good, it feels incredible to have this finally settled. I let the moment sink in. Rudy is finally, truly dead…
…but then he stands up and dusts himself off.
Dammit! Looks like I’m going land shopping for a parcel big enough for a Tron bike arena.