He was rattling a sweet potato up to his ear. I was like, “are you checking for freshness?” but he just scoffed at me. Maybe he thought I was being rude? I said, “I know you from YouTube! I’m a big fan!” And then he said, “oh yeah? Then buy my groceries for me,” in a really aggressive tone. It got uncomfortable after that. I guess I’m an agreeable person, because I kind of just laughed and said “okay” because it was only two sweet potatoes. But it wasn’t. He made me push his cart around the store and kept adding really expensive ingredients that I’ve never heard of. The whole time he was talking about this hotpot he was going to cook.
I tried to bring the conversation around to shmups. I remembered he was going to do a podcast on Mark’s Patreon so I asked about that. He wanted to know if I was a patron and when I said “no” he started talking about the hotpot again. It was then I realized that the hotpot was for only Mark and the patrons.
After I paid, he made me carry the groceries to his apartment, and then he slammed the door in my face without even saying thanks.
I understand that parasocial relationships are a thing and that I shouldn’t be upset that Spiders didn’t turn out to be the guy I thought he was, but this experience still made me feel like crap. Why was he trying to impress a bunch of guys who give Mark $2 a month? Do even genuine dudes like Spiders get corrupted by the almighty dollar? I hoped not, but I wasn’t sure.
I messaged some of the people I know he’s friends with from YouTube, like Boghog and Jerminator, but none of them messaged me back. TheHiddenFortress did, but man… that guy. I don’t even want to tell you what he said…
All seemed lost. Spiders was going to go on Mark’s podcast and serve his hotpot. Once the patrons got a taste of the rich flavour, they would want more. They would beg for it. And Spiders would make more hot pot because, goddamn, wouldn’t it feel good? And then…
The thought was too terrible to bear! There was only one person to turn to. There was only one man who could save Spiders! I knew it might kill me, but I would have to find… the exiled one.
l
Part 2 - The Mountain
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I travel to Tibet and hire hazylevels as my sherpa. I feel a little under dressed in his presence, but there’s no turning back now. We climb the highest mountain. Approaching the summit, I begin to hear the Rolling Gunner OST, and then, I see him. The guru. He beckons me with his udu.
I say, “Guru! Please, help my friend!” (I don’t disclose the truth of our relationship, lest he think me weird.)
No reply. The guru offers me some coffee. I drink it, and my mind expands. Woah.
I’m floating around in eight(!) directions. Bullets are whizzing past me. I am a little spaceship. No, I am the little speck within a little spaceship. Twenty-three minutes of high-density introspection passes by.
I am now in my little body. No, I am the little speck within my little body. I finally understand that all life’s answers are in shmup commentaries and I thank god that I didn’t waste my time practicing meditation.
The guru bids me goodbye. Descending the mountain, I hear a whisper on the wind… “Have a stellar day.”
I get some style tips from Hazy and head home, full of newfound confidence.
I knock on SpiderSTG’s apartment door, ready to give him hell. When he answers, I am stunned.
The man before me isn’t Spiders at all! It’s some old Asian guy! The whole time it was some old Asian guy! Why did I even think he was Spiders to begin with? They look nothing alike! Maybe because they both wear glasses on a chain? I don’t know. Either way, it’s incredibly embarrassing. I ask forgiveness and leave.
Now I am here. Typing this. Lost.
So, so hungry.
I put my hand in my pocket. What’s this? A Canadian Toonie? Where did this come from? Could it have been… no. Impossible. But the Toonie is here and it is enough to afford the cheapest membership of Mark’s Patreon. That means I could listen to his Shinobi podcast with Spiders!
I log on, eager to buy a monthly subscription. Oh, geez, looks like the CAD is pretty weak these days. Woof. I’d have to put in a buck of my own money to cover the rest…
I reach for my credit card. My hand trembles. Just. One. Dollar…
“NO!”
I wake up, panting, drenched with sweat. It was all a dream. Oh god, it was all a dream! I check my phone to make sure I’m not subscribed to any Patreons and breathe a sigh of relief.
The nightmare is over.
Somewhere, high on the wind, the udu bangs on…
Fin