《Imagine Being a Rare》SFC 15. The Moon Is Our Ball, the Stars Our Pins - Far Side
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“Hey Mike! Outfit my friends here with some weighted shoes on me, Pinzaburo.”
That alley's layout and theme differed from the first's, in that it was on Mars. Red ground, black sky, Mars. Seeing the first-timers unsure how to bowl on Mars, Pinzaburo cajoled Bowling Ali into sparing a few tips. “You think you need to go full power to hit the upper tunnel, but the low gravity takes care of that. The main thing is hitting the ramp right,” Ali troubled himself to tell them before he returned to the cultivation of his own techniques.
Tourist groused about having good reasons for skipping that particular planet on his trips. His bad attitude and methods unrefined for low-gravity situations contributed toward a victory over Merlin by only twelve encouraging points. Emperor of Bowling, on the other hand, demonstrated that his ambition encompassed lands far beyond Earth's single sphere.
Cynics would have claimed Everyday Pin's hospitality owed its existence to its irrefutable superiority, but Formal Figro had stayed home and a possible spare required Gintus Pelluina's full attention, leaving no cynics available. The theory died, forever unexpressed, when noted space pirate True Beryllia exploited her home field advantage to overcome Annie Alley in their first game. Annie shook her hand and showed no inclination to concoct and execute a revenge plot spanning years or even generations to the surprise of Loki, Morgana, and various Demons from Holy Legend Army. Relief, too. That sort of thing could waste a lot of time, even when someone else started it.
Beryllia's feat went unrepeated, even by Mentor Tendradius Pux, who came from space in the sense of a planet with Earth-like gravity other than the world featured in the story of Commandment of Hero rather than from seedships or extraterrestrial colonies. Hot Air Hank came closer, within one pin of victory. He liked balloons. And flight. To those factors he attributed his near-success.
“I promised this guy I'd play a few against him, and Pinzaburo doesn't make promises and not make good on them later,” Pinzaburo said, jerking his thumb at Bowling Ali. “Head on over to the shop. There's a guy there who'll take care of you.”
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“This way!” Tourist skittered outside as fast as that alley's detestable gravity allowed him, which was pretty fast. The crusaders and officers followed and commented on the parking lot's emptiness.
“It serves an aesthetic purpose. Garnish,” Chef Winona said.
The next alley was no alley at all but instead an electronics store, except that of course it was also an alley. A man greeted them. Broad shoulders stretching an orange suit! A facial scar that implied a rough past! A bowling ball! Señor Pin confronted the host. “Hello. My name is Señor Pin. Welcome to this establishment.”
“Are you a reused model with minor cosmetic differences? This is the story that's gonna win me an award!” Society Page Lasva scribbled as if her award for sensationalist journalism depended on it.
“Is aught strange in that?” asked Gabriel, Michael, Metatron, Power, Throne, Principality, and Cherub.
“Another scoop!”
“Negative. He and Pinzaburo are the same character. He is a 5* alt,” Mentor Tendradius said, but too delayed. The narrative had been established.
“There are many electronics available for purchase. But. Customers such as you and I are interested in services more than goods, yes? You will step in the back room provided you are as I imagine you to be.”
The bowlers nudged forward their guests, but encouraged them more by failing to keep straight faces and bobbing or swaying a little as they stood, all symptoms of minds that believe somebody else is about to see the good stuff. Mentor Tendradius Pux's discipline saved him from doing the same, though he knew the mode ahead and what it offered.
Dabblers in Everyday Pin thought of the game as a way to spend a few minutes between meetings or on the bus bowling, perhaps a little low-gravity bowling, relay bowling, or pinball bowling, which was just pinball except holes had been drilled in the ball for thematic reasons. What kept the hardcores' hands stuck to their phones was different from all that. Roguelike bowling! Take a bowler with no skills or stats, no power or spin whatsoever and certainly no proficiency on wood, grass, or Mars, and run him through a short career mode with random stages and stat improvements. End up with a complete bowler you can use in other modes, some of them anyway, but could you have done better? Reset to try again; know that decision is irrevocable.
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In one mode the officers experienced bowling, upside-down bowling, bowling past a windmill and a crocodile that tried to grab balls as they crossed the river, crossword bowling where letters instead of pins got knocked down to spell words, hangman bowling with a similar layout but dire consequences, and more. They came out the other end as new creatures, reforged on the anvil of pins.
“I can see the oil,” the forgettable Storm Warper Kindo marveled, which prompted speculation he needed glasses. “I meant more the way the oil patterns affect the ball. I can predict it better,” he said, which prompted speculation that he needed oratory lessons.
Before determining who ought to offer oratory lessons so Kindo could take them, the officers and crusaders rushed back to the other alleys to test their new abilities except for Gaelvry Bride. She remained in the store to look for something to Aerywe's taste. Their efforts failed as completely as before, is what Coremel might have predicted had he not been shooing UTASes out of the Armory all those miles and worlds away, but careful record-keeping by alley regulars showed that while they ended up with losing records as a whole, they grabbed a few wins here and there.
Spectators viewing a close contest between The Princess and Wedding Singer Vritia suggested the desirability of experimenting with a new mode called strip bowling, but Metatron, who had been rubbing his feet, proposed a different course. “There are numberless games. We have discovered two. Our engines grow cold from disuse.”
His comrades agreed a cold engine brought shame on its owner, for which reason they prepared to leave. Ongoing matches got played out while the definite winners and losers shook hands and forced souvenirs on each other. Bowls of nachos and trophies that bore inscriptions such as, “Getting Better!” passed one way, and Deadly and Baleful Eyes to be converted into novelty bowling balls by craftsmen with drills and low levels of squeamishness went the other. Some of the visitors checked out the gift shop as well to buy plush animals holding fuzzy balls in exchange for waxes squeezed out of horrible creatures in their home games. Gaelvry Bride paced back and forth in front of a jacket studded with sequins that spelled out “Strike” and depicted a pin on either side of the word, but decided her sister would not appreciate its style no matter how good she might look wearing it.
Quircy Rau delayed her departure to ask Mike about etching “First in Our Hearts — Best Driver Heartful Azalea” in the base of the least obviously bowling-related trophy available. She joined the gathered host in the parking lot last as its members waved goodbye to the bowlers, also waving, and promised to come by again during an event that neglected to involve them, inconceivable as that seemed. Quircy handed the trophy to Azalea and called out a countdown. “3! 2! 1! Go!” The crusaders and officers tugged their ropes four times and left Everyday Pin.
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