The other day Kristen and I had found these awesome remote control Street Fighter toys. They operated no different from RC cars with dual sticks to control movement and buttons on the underside of the controller to perform attacks. Even getting the toys to perform their character's signature move sets was done no differently on the remote control than you would on a game pad. We both had decided to pick one up each and went back to the house to mess with them some more.

As soon as we had got back, I pulled my Ryu out of the box to send a few Dragon Punches towards the way of Kristen's Blanka. The figures moved very quickly and we had the idea to start drag racing the toys down the floor of the living room. We had sent them bolting down to our roommate's room from which there was a large crash. Time for play was over. What waited for me in that room was just a mess, and the figures were lost somewhere in it. Time was pressing for other errands I had to tend to and I went to my room to draft a note apologizing for mess and offering to pay for any damages.

I heard the front door slam open and shortly after footsteps scurrying to the room underneath. It didn't take long to hear that cry of "WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE!". No note was going to get me out of this one and I went downstairs expecting


And then I woke up...maybe I should stop eating right before bed...