The Old Man and the Alien /Orig posted 1/31/05

Our story begins in a not so small town. Not a bursting metropolis, but rather a semi-large area of buildings and people. Almost a city, but not quite a small town as lived in by the likes of that kid from Deliverance. So, to recap. Not a city, but a town-like community where some things may or may not happen. But sometimes things really do happen in a town-like community where some things may or may not happen. Strange unexplainable things. Now, in this town lives an old man. Not an ordinary old man, but not extraordinary either. More of an ordinary old man who had something extraordinary happen to him...in a town-like community where some things may or may not happen.

The Old Man lived in an era of vast technology. Not quite flying cars or hoverboots, but instead flying gas prices and hover boobs. Which gives you an idea of the priorities of the world. The Old Man accepted technology. You may say technology was his next door neighbor. Not exactly a friend, but ok to hang out with during a weekend barbeque. The Old Man did not fear technology, nor did he whole heartedly embrace it. The Old Man is no savage. He owns an iPod. But the Old Man did fear one thing. He lacked computer savvy. He had no techno-mojo when it came to what he referred to as the "Box-O-Terror". Computers were a mystery to the Old Man. But being the unsavage-like person he was, the Old Man learned how to use a computer. He played games on one at home, used one at work and had the basic knowledge of this semi-sentient apparatus. So he made due.

The Old Man muddled through his computer life knowing only a fraction of what could be known. But the Old Man knew this would never change, for you see, the Old Man has no patience. Not in the "Doctor will see you now" sense, but in the "I'm too damn lazy" sense. But this way of thinking eventually caught up to the Old Man. His computer slowly became obsolete. Newer, more advanced games would not work. The same went for programs. Then the viruses started creeping in. Electronic roaches scurrying throughout the machine leaving behind their poisonous trail. What was he to do? "I will teach myself", he said. And that's exactly what he did.

The Old Man learned a few things in his travels down the information two-lane highway. Message boards, websites, magazines and people in general were his encyclopedias. Even encyclopedias agreed to help. But too little too late. It was too much to learn. Much too daunting a task. Technology was slowly passing him by. After all, he was still from a town-like community where some things may or may not happen. What was going to happen? How will he catch up? Will he catch up? How was he going to interject anything into the conversation about the latest gaming blitzkrieg if he didn't have the tools to do so? And did anyone else care? What the Old Man did learn was that his computer was nothing but a really big storage box for music files and not much more. He needed to upgrade. There it was. The word the Old Man was fearful to speak aloud, now out in the open for all to hear. He realized it was too late to turn back now. If he did not upgrade soon, he would no doubt transform into the person that can only talk about how great Defender was or is the only one at the party talking about Spider Solitaire. He knew he wanted it. Upgrade. To the Old Man, the word was mysterious and exciting, all the while holding the key. The key that opens a common bond shared by many. A bond so strong, divorces have been built upon it's foundation. That bond is gaming. This was the primary reason the Old Man started his quest for the almighty Upgrade.

As with his earlier studies the Old Man fell back into the internet to ask the many cyberites to aid in his plight. This is where the trouble began. With all sorts of ways to upgrade (more memory, new video card, etc.) the Old Man started to think this was more than his tiny little mind could understand. Millions of conflicting comments about how one should upgrade. Advice from all walks of life (some good, some not so good and some just plain nasty with a holier than thou attitude) flooded the Old Man's inbox. "Try this card, Get that motherboard, don't buy that, it's crap" seemed to be the most popular responses. The Old Man was swimming in indecision. He was more confused than ever. When the advice turned to specs, the Old Man knew he was in over his head. He had to reach for a line, something that would pull him ashore out of the digital undertow. With bit rates and processor speeds still swirling in his head, the Old Man got cold feet. He was afraid of making a bad purchase. He had the money to spend, but he didn't want the headache of putting it all together. So he scrapped the entire idea, promptly got inter-shitfaced and passed out on his bed.

The Old Man awoke very disoriented. It was pitch black. Possibly from lingering effects from the night before in which he drank the equivalent of a small lake. He sat up and the lights went on in his head. Blinding light, piercing his head. Ok, there's the effects from the night before. As the Old Man's eyes adjusted he saw he was sitting on rectangular table. Swinging his legs over the side, he sees a light to the left. With wobbly legs the Old Man staggers toward the light. Closing in he can see the light is a sign. "Open", it glows and just below is a single door. The Old Man (who unbeknownst to him is about to become the ordinary old man who had something extraordinary happen to him) turns the knob and enters. Inside is a single aluminum table and two aluminum chairs. The Old Man sits in the chair nearest to him. Sitting across from him is a glowing Very Little Bald Man.

"How can I help you Sir?"
"Uh...what is this place?"
"A place that can help"
"How?"
"No..not how...Help"
"Shit! No, what I mean is how can you help?"
"By offering you what you seek"
"And what is that?"
"Don't you know? Isn't that why you are here?"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I speak of the only path not yet walked"
"Um...."
"U p g r a d e. For a fee we can fulfill your need"
"A small fee you say?"
"A fee, yes"
"Small?"
"Ummm....So would you like to join the upgraded world now?"
"When do we begin?"
"It has already begun."

The Old man awoke back on his bed, in his room, of his house erected in his town-like community where some things may or may not happen. Thinking it all a dream from the effects of the yada-yada-yada, the Old Man walked out into the kitchen and stopped dead. Standing at three feet tall, a shiny black box sat in the middle of the Old Man's house. Crawling over and around the box were creatures obviously feline in nature. The Old Man stepped towards the box and one of the creatures hissed and swiped at his hand. A note taped to the side of the box read,

Please submit your credit card to one of the Credikittys

The Old Man takes his credit card from his billfold and tentatively hands it to the creature on top of the box. The Credikitty eyes change to infrared and scan the card. The Old Man watches as clicks and whirrs emanate from inside the feline. A thin strip of paper rolls from the mouth of the creature onto the floor. The Old Man bends down and picks it up reading the word receipt stamped on the top. With a final hum and a pop, both Credikittys disappear into nothingness.

TOP SECRET

Briefing Document: Operation Old Man

For Col. A. Reynolds eyes only

January 26, 2005: It has been two days since the Old Man stopped talking. He was found in his home shouting incoherent psycho babble. Things like "Finally! Half-Life 2! Far Cry! Oh My God! Tron never looked this good! No more freeze-unfreeze deaths ever again! I don't care if I could have built a cheaper one myself! It was never about the money! Thank you Alien! Thank you!" He keeps shouting something else about a Credi-kitty, but until further tests we are unsure of the nature of this matter. We have been able to commission from the domicile a large humming object that radiates a bluish color from its base, (some have unofficially labeled it Black and Blue) but are unable to ascertain its function.

January 28, 2005: We have discovered the function of the Credi-Kitty. It seems to work on some basic level as a garden variety atm machine as well as the ability to bend space and or time. The photos attached show the scale is akin to a normal house cat. More research is vital. We need to figure out the machine's function as soon as possible.

January 29: The Old Man is gone. He somehow managed to escape with the machine in his possession. This happened during full lockdown. I am afraid the situation is FUBAR. We have no video of the escape. The cameras malfunctioned. Security audio however picked up the Old Man's ramblings as he snaked through the corridors evading all military personnel. Only one phrase could be made out. It doesn't make sense. I've listened to it over and over, and I still don't know what it means. "access god mode......god mode...god mode...god mode".