You get to wiggling.
You wiggle up, you wiggle down, you wiggle left, you wiggle right.
Nothing. You mix it up a little, wiggling quarter-circles, half-circles,
and even circles. Still nothing. That's it, you decide, time to pull out
all the stops. You set into a routine of the most intense wiggling
you've ever engaged in. The sort of wiggling that straddles the already
ill-defined boundary between wiggling and jerking. You're giving it your
all, but still nothing happens. Alright, time to take a little break.
You assure the mysterious arcade cabinet that you'll be back in 5 for
another round of tugging at that joystick.
What a perplexing situation. Wiggling is clearly the only conceivable
option available to you at this point, but even as you sip on your
blueberry juicebox, you feel like a failure. Maybe the strongarm
approach isn't the way to go, here. Maybe you should try to finesse the
machine a little; make it think you've already got it figured out, and
you've just been toying with it for fun. It can smell fear, you're sure
of it. Yes, this plan is foolproof! You devise a complex array of
wiggles, twists, dips, and dives that is bound to get you some results.
Time to attack it with renewed confidence.
When you return to the
basement, you notice that the machine has started to change. A delayed
reaction from before, perhaps? It seems that it is going into "demo
mode". This isn't quite what you had in mind, but at least you
should be able to learn something from watching a demonstration of
whatever this game is. You watch patiently as the machine counts down to
"demo mode". The timer reaches zero, and you're giddy with anticipation.
You clue into the fact that "demo" doesn't necessarily stand for
"demonstration" when the machine takes out a sizeable chunk of your
basement. You, miraculously, survive. Unfortunately, your significant
other will be back from her grocery shopping soon, and there's no way
you can clean this mess up in time. You're a dead man!
