Left 4 Dead Poo
Two days ago, after finishing Left 4 Dead, my girlfriend Andree sets down the controller and says, “Let’s get the second one.”
Yes! I did it!! I’ve converted her!
But to be fair, to both myself and the game, this was the point where she was clearly eager to play more — what got her into playing in the first place was another game: Resident Evil 5. Granted, zombies, but also totally different. It had an engaging although cheesy story, varied gameplay, a girl and a guy main character, and most importantly split-screen co-op. Bravo, gaming trends! You’re doing it!
That game was great. And although at many points she was a bit lost, especially in terms of how to control the lead female character (Sheva is bangin’), she managed to grasp it by the end. So much so that she was rejoicing when she pulled off a sweet headshot actually on purpose or when she saved me because I was going too Rambo. This wasn’t without its trials and tribulations however, as repeatedly I had to console her by saying, “Don’t worry, I’ve been playing video games all my life, you just started…” because she would get frustrated when she couldn’t even walk through a doorway as I’m saying, “No, no…in front of you…there. Go straight. Just right there. It’s right fucking in front of you, woman!” And she’s like looking up and backwards and is spraying away the much needed health sprays for no good reason.
Patience, patience…serenity now.
But she was frustrated, understandably. She had to learn how to control something through a controller; a totally new experience. I liken it to sports. Everyone, save for the unfortunate few, knows how to run, kick, throw something, etc. They might not do it well, but the act of doing is known and has been done. Their brain knows how to pull back the leg then zoom it forward while aiming the foot at the black and white checkered ball. But not everyone has ever picked up a controller with dual analog sticks, triggers, bumpers, and a ton of multicolored buttons. Their brain doesn’t know how to walk in one direction and look in the other just by manipulating the two tiny rubber doo-dads. It’s like in Demolition Man with the three sea shells. If you don’t know that reference, please, do yourself a kindness and watch that amazing movie. Or at least watch this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBI8uCKi2lI
Now, the key thing to getting your girlfriend to playing a video game is not to be like the lovable Rob Schneider, and laugh. No. It’s to gently explain how you sequentially use the vibrations of the shells to dislodge any remnant fecal matter then disinfect the anus. Otherwise you could get a freak out. Which I experienced during a section of Resident Evil 5 with my normally sweet girlfriend, Andree.
At the end of RE 5, not to give anything away, you are split up and one person does one thing and the other person does another. A classic co-op move. Sheva (the character Andree was playing) at one point falls, then Andree needs to press a button really fast to hoist herself up and continue on. Failing to do so would result in the big mutant that was chasing us (and that I was having to fight off while my dumb bitch of a girlfriend got her shit together) would kill us and we’d have to restart. This section took us hours. Hours. And at one point she got hungry, and when Andree gets hungry, things go downhill. I should’ve heeded the warning signs. ”Can we just take a break?” “But we’re so close!” “Maybe try this?” “I did, I think you just gotta press that button faster!” “I can’t…” “Don’t say that, you can do it.” “But—” “Come on, Andree! Get in the game!”
And then disaster. Full-on 2 year old crumple, back onto the bed, she goes limp, starts to cry, and tells me how she’s sorry and that she’s not good at video games. I’ve never seen a grown adult have a breakdown like that. I wish I had recorded it because it would be viral on YouTube. It was weird to watch.
What. The. Fuck? And she thinks she’d be a good person to have in a zombie apocalypse?! This, mind you, is the same girl where earlier on in the game, in a level in some ancient tombs, there was this little puzzle that we had to figure out. She was near-useless because it was early on and she was still figuring out the controls so I told her to just wait on these steps and shoot any of the spiders that were attacking us if they pop up while I go solve the puzzle. She agrees, an important task now under her command, and stands guard. Three seconds later a spider she was supposed to be looking out for jumps on her and startles her so much that she let’s out the most blood-curdling, loudest, actually real scream — like the kind of pitch you could only get to when you’re twelve. Then we both laughed. I still make fun of her. What an idiot.
And that part in the final stages that cause the meltdown? The next time we got to it, I grabbed the controller from her, tapped the button at the speed at which you’re supposed to tap it (ie: more than 3 times a minute) and miraculously Sheva pulled herself up and continued on. But, instead of throwing the controller back in Andree’s face and saying, “That’s how you do it, retard!” I refrained. I instead calmly passed it back and said, “I love you. Thank you for going on this journey with me.” I’m building an empire here, people, and it must be done with love as well as fear and respect.
Needless to say although Resident Evil 5 got her into playing video games, it nearly tore us apart. Shit got intense.
But now look at her. She’s a real trooper. Sure, in Left 4 Dead 2 she might be a little too timid to pick up the axe and run into a horde of zombies for some melee combat, but at least she’s doing her part and saving my ass when those Chargers are power-slamming me against the ground. And while we’re on the subject, I gotta say, not a big fan of Left 4 Dead 2. It’s fine, I like the additions, the new weapons and the new monsters and the new environments and the new characters…yes yes, all good. For me, it’s the pacing. Left 4 Dead had breaks in the action, you could get your bearings, it had crescendos and lulls, whereas the sequel is just non-stop madness from all directions with levels that just don’t end and no way to save your progress in the middle of them. If you die at the last part you have to do the whole bloody thing over again, and fight off horde after horde. Hey Valve! Enough with the fucking hordes! Chill out, there’s a lady here! And before you even think about suggesting it, I’m not putting the game difficulty on Easy. It’s on Normal. It never goes down. For me, it only goes up. It’s only staying there because, well, there’s a lady.
I think the best zombie game would be more or less a playable version of Max Brooks’ book, World War Z. The book focuses on your standard zombie apocalypse (the slow-moving kind of zombie where you can only kill them by destroying their brains — classic), and in North America the population has fled west and set up a safe zone, but in the game you would play someone who got left behind. And it’s not about fighting off hordes (fucking hordes), it’s about survival. You’re not loaded to the teeth, you’re lucky to have just a pistol and you really have to scavenge rounds for it. You have to find food, shelter, and avoid setting off horde onslaughts (ok so there would be hordes, but you’re trying to avoid them). Do you try and hotwire that car and risk waking up the neighborhood or stick to walking around on foot? Think The Road meets zombies. How cool would that be? All dark and suspenseful, running into well-written Bioshock-like scenarios and characters. I’m getting a boner. An undead boner. And the only way to relieve it is to blow the head.
ZINGER! LEAVE ON A HIGH NOTE! PEACE, I’M OUTTA HERE!!!!!
*throws down the mic*
*everyone goes nuts*
*some dude throws his underwear onstage*
*one guy goes, “there was a stage??”*
