Kill Kirby Vol. 1

A few weeks ago some friends from our ward asked Jake to feed, walk, and otherwise care for their two dogs while they were out of town. When they returned they paid him quite generously for his efforts. (Why they paid him I'll never know, since it was Kaddi and I who took him over there, unlocked the doors, made sure the lights and air-conditioning were turned off and on, and grabbed the dogs out from under the couches after the kids let them run wild around the house.) There was never any doubt as to how he would use the money. You'd have an easier time convincing an addict not to spend his money on crack than in talking Jake out of purchasing a videogame. Each day I when I get home I half-expect to hear stories about how he stole money out of Kaddi's purse or knocked over a liquor store.

Thus began the ultimate quest to find the perfect video game. Jake may be obsessive when it comes to his Gameboy, but like his mother he's a discriminating consumer. He wanted Kirby: Nightmare in Dreamland and it didn't matter how long he had to wait or how many stores we had to visit - it would be his. After weeks of fruitless searching, we accidentally found Nintendo's holy grail at a mall kiosk while waiting for Spiderman 3. It was price-marked at 590 Baht, but the retailer instantly lowered it to 500. Before I could continue negotiating Jake had handed over his money. We still got a bargain. If the vendor had looked the boy over carefully and noticed him developing the shakes and breaking out into a cold sweat the minute he saw Kirby, he could have easily doubled the price and we would have had to pay it. Better that than spending three times as much in taxi fares to search out other locations.

And so the family settled in to watch Spiderman take on three villains and still find time for a romantic storyline, Jake got his beloved cartridge, and I got a large Oreo Blizzard on the way out - all was right with the world. That is, until that night when I was sitting at the table translating some newspaper documents and looked up to see Jake standing in front of me. Normally when the boy gets a new game he disappears down into the recesses of his room and is not heard from until Kaddi and I draw straws to decide who will don the goalie mask and kevlar vest before trying to wrestle the video console out of his grasp. Yet we'd been home only for a few minutes, and yet here he was above ground. His face was ashen white, his eyes were glazed over. He quietly placed his Gameboy, Kirby lodged securely in its respective slot, on the table and turned the screen towards me so I could see the game's title page.

Instead of the obnoxious little pink blob that is the delight of Kirby fans everywhere, this screen was a wash of black and white creatures. I looked down at the game title:

March of the Penguins

I looked back at Jake. His voiced wavered but he managed to say, "Well...I guess my money's gone." And with his eyes full of tears he headed back downstairs to his room.

(To Be Continued...)