Scott's stomach was growling fiercely by the time he got back to his room. Had he been playing all night? Was it time for breakfast already? He couldn't tell. It was so easy to lose track of time playing games like this. It was a wonder that his butt wasn't sore from sitting in front of the TV for so long. Then again, his butt was pretty well-trained at sitting in one place for hours on end.
Man, I'm so hungry that the steak and fries actually smell real enough to eat, thought Scott, staring at the plate of food next to his bed and licking his lips. His stomach growled deeply and loudly; he could almost hear an "I HUNGER" down there as well.
Okay, that's it. Time to turn this thing off and get some freakin' food, though Scott decisively. He turned his head, expecting to look away from a screen and see Ramona's apartment behind him. No such luck. All he saw was the other side of the hospital room. He turned sharply in the other direction, but only succeeded in making his neck feel a little sore. C'mon Scott, you've got more will power than this! he told himself, reaching up to his head in an attempt to take off whatever headset he might be wearing in the real world. All he ended up doing was grabbing his own ears. Huh, maybe I don't, then, he thought, slumping a bit when his efforts proved useless. He was soon smiling again, however. Oh well. Keep playing, then! I'm sure Stomach will win over Mind eventually!
That steak and fries really did look good, but he knew that game food wouldn't fill him up. He left the plate alone, instead going to his closet. There he found more grey uniforms and other pieces of clothing hanging on the metal bar that Indiana Jones had told him he would find there. The clothes immediately went to the closet floor, and Scott started tugging on the bar. "Nnghhh! Hyyyeeeggghh!"
He kept pulling and pulling, but for whatever reason, he couldn't quite get the bar to budge. Maybe I haven't got the right set of pixels, he thought, moving over on the bar and trying to hang from it, hoping that that would do something more than just pulling. Eventually, he found himself hanging from the bar upside-down with both feet and hands on the bar. "Almost got iiiit— ACK!"
CRASH.
Scott found himself on top of his pile of clothes, the bar in both hands. "Owww, games aren't supposed to hurt this much . . ." he whined to himself.
M107
Man, I'm so hungry that the steak and fries actually smell real enough to eat, thought Scott, staring at the plate of food next to his bed and licking his lips. His stomach growled deeply and loudly; he could almost hear an "I HUNGER" down there as well.
Okay, that's it. Time to turn this thing off and get some freakin' food, though Scott decisively. He turned his head, expecting to look away from a screen and see Ramona's apartment behind him. No such luck. All he saw was the other side of the hospital room. He turned sharply in the other direction, but only succeeded in making his neck feel a little sore. C'mon Scott, you've got more will power than this! he told himself, reaching up to his head in an attempt to take off whatever headset he might be wearing in the real world. All he ended up doing was grabbing his own ears. Huh, maybe I don't, then, he thought, slumping a bit when his efforts proved useless. He was soon smiling again, however. Oh well. Keep playing, then! I'm sure Stomach will win over Mind eventually!
That steak and fries really did look good, but he knew that game food wouldn't fill him up. He left the plate alone, instead going to his closet. There he found more grey uniforms and other pieces of clothing hanging on the metal bar that Indiana Jones had told him he would find there. The clothes immediately went to the closet floor, and Scott started tugging on the bar. "Nnghhh! Hyyyeeeggghh!"
He kept pulling and pulling, but for whatever reason, he couldn't quite get the bar to budge. Maybe I haven't got the right set of pixels, he thought, moving over on the bar and trying to hang from it, hoping that that would do something more than just pulling. Eventually, he found himself hanging from the bar upside-down with both feet and hands on the bar. "Almost got iiiit— ACK!"
CRASH.
Scott found himself on top of his pile of clothes, the bar in both hands. "Owww, games aren't supposed to hurt this much . . ." he whined to himself.