Sunday, November 10, 2013

Day 314 - Pong Story

Pong Story
Matthew Ryan Fischer

An important distinction between Beirut and Paddle Beer Pong is the use of Ping-Pong paddles as opposed to the tossing or bouncing of the ball. No matter what anyone else says, Paddle Beer Pong is not true beer pong. That’s not to say that Beirut is true beer pong or anything like that. Sure there were house rules. Sure there were lots of ways to play the game. But paddles were not part of the game. Why? Because deep in his heart, Andrew knew that paddles just weren’t any fun at all. Not when trying to get drunk. It just wasn’t going to happen. Not on his watch. Not at his table. He would accept tossing the ball or bouncing the ball or the high arc or any variety of shot, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to hit balls with paddles and have any chance of hitting them into his opponent’s cup. Ping-Pong was a tough enough game. And he was no good at it. He wasn’t about to mix a game he could win with a game he could lose. So really, what it all came down to was that Andrew wanted to win. And to do that, there were no paddles involved.
But enough about Andrew’s hatred of, and weakness at, the game of Ping-Pong. More important than any of that was the fact that Andrew could play beer pong. His way, of course. But still he could play. One reason he could play was that he had stamina. And “Drunk Andrew” was just about as lucid and coordinated as “Sober Andrew.” An important skill. Consume consume consume. Drink drink drink. And yet he stayed the same. He was always calm and quiet and in control. Sure he liked the feeling of being drunk and sure he felt the effects, but he was one of the lucky ones. He was in control always. Much to other men’s envy, the alcohol never seemed to affect him. That of course was impossible. Of course it affected him. He was just really good about being less drunk than those around him. He was also really good about knowing when to leave and when to disappear to the back room to pass out or to a spare bathroom to puke. He never showed any downside, so as far as the other intoxicated could tell, he was in complete control. “Never let them see you sweat.” He learned that from some advertisement he saw as a kid, but he never forgot the advice. Thanks television, you’ve done it again.
The best part about having Blaine as a beer pong partner was that the guy could shoot. It was like he was playing professional basketball, but with a ping pong ball and a plastic red cup full of watered down piss beer. But the guy could shoot the ball. He had an amazing high arcing shot. He had a lot of great shots, but the high arc was really a work of art.
The second best part about having Blaine as a beer pong partner was that the more he drank, the more he got drunk, the more he had an amazing dumb luck accidental skill shot capability. He could be ready to fall flat on his face, and yet he could toss up garbage and it would somehow find cup. Super important skill six rounds into an all-night tournament. Dude made junk happen. He was a winner. He won.
Third best reason, as if there needed to be a third after the other two, was that Blaine and Andrew were best friends. Nothing beats winning alongside a best friend.
There were other reasons as well including his humor and his ability to hit on girls while simultaneously playing the game.
But seriously how many reasons did Andrew need? He had a lot. But enough with the long list of reasons.
Andrew and Blaine played a lot. They had played at bars and at parties. They had played with people they knew and with strangers. They had played in high school, college and beyond. They played a lot. And drank a lot. They were good at drinking and good at playing games. They had played in several tournaments and they had won a few in their day. They played beer pong. That’s the important thing here. They played the game. A lot. They were experts at the game.
Beer in a cup. A cup of beer. Pour it in, drink it up. Wash, rinse, repeat. Again and again and again.
If they had been superheroes, they would have been terrible excuses for superheroes. Maybe Andrew had a super constitution. Maybe he had an above normal metabolism. Not much to fight crime with there. But maybe he had the power to cast an illusion around himself and appear sober, or maybe he could implant that idea into onlookers’ minds. Not a great power, but better. Still, not solving many mysteries that way. And as for Blaine, what was his super power? Being athletically gifted in strange and obscure games? Being fun to party with?
It was a good thing that no one was relying on these two to fight crime or solve mysteries.
It was a good thing that even though no one was expecting it or relying upon it, these two in fact did have the perfect super powers.
They played beer pong. Little did they know they were saving the universe at the same time.
Alien marauders from another dimension really misunderstood the way things worked and went about their invasion in the worst conceivable way ever. They appeared at a party and mistook a beer pong tournament for a death match of will that crowned not a party game champion, but they thought it was actually determining some sort of important leader. Instead of using their space-age extra-dimensional weaponry, they found an appreciation for the taste of beer and the competition of the game.
They came to the wrong party. They challenged the wrong guys. Lucky for everyone else on Earth.

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