Catch’A’Mon: Gotta Enslave ’em All

He poured himself a cup of coffee. Took a seat at the table opposite Marcey.

“Talked to my cousin the other day,” He said as he sipped his coffee. “Insightful conversation.”

“What you talk about?” Marcey asked.

“Well… insightful shit of course,” He replied.

The other day…. 

“Got that new Creature Hunters game,” He said.

“Squad based game where you capture and kill monsters?” I asked. 

“No capture,” He replied. “Just kill” 

“Oh…dude,” I said. “That’s some savage shit.”

“Huh?” He asked.

“Imagine you having date night with ya girl. Eating a dinner box and watching a flick. Just chillin,” I said. “Suddenly a squad rolls up. Shoots you in the face with a freaking crossbow. Then deep fries ya lady with a flamethrower.”

“What?” He replied.  

“Creature hunters… from the perspective of the creature,” I said.

“Oh… shit,” He said. “I see.” 

“Catch’a’mons worse!” I said.

“How worse?” He asked.

“Imagine… You playing an intense game of handball with the homeys,” I said. 

“I like handball,” He said.

“Me too!” I said. “You on the court racking up aces. Setting records. Speed and accuracy is at a whole ‘nother level.”

“Okay…” He said.

“You at point game. Some dude rolls up and zaps you with something.” I said, looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody was watching me. “You open your eyes. You’re in a white void. Alone and no place to go.”

“Trapped?” He asked.

Inside a cage no bigger than a bocce ball,” I replied. 

“Damn,” He said. “Crazy ass pocket dimensions.”

“Word,” I said. “That’s not even the worst part.”

“No?” He asked.

“Nope,” I replied. “Crazy part’s when they let you out.”

“That’s crazy?” He said.   

“Crazy like cat shit,” I said. “You come out looking around confused as hell. Realize quickly you’re a ways from home.”

“On some transantlatic slave trade shit,” He said. 

“Indeed. And they only let you out to fight other abductees,” I said. “Your opponents leave their catch’em balls looking lost like you. But you have to fight. Its fight or return to the void.”

“Tragic,” He said.  

“Word… Then they force y’all to scrap til someone’s unconscious… And win, lose, or draw,” I leaned in to whisper. “Yo ass end up right back in that pocket dimension.”

“Bruh,” He said.  

“I know,” I said. “I’m buggin.”

“Nah you good,” He said. “Shit’s kinda funny.”

“Nothing funny about kidnapping, slavery and exploitation, bruh,” I said. ”Nothing funny at all.” 

He sighed.

He stirred his coffee while returning Marcey’s befuddled stare.

“What?” He asked.

“Ummm…” Marcey replied. “Where and when did this conversation take place?”

“Yesterday,” He replied. “Earth… Not sure which earth or which version of me. But the conversation took place yesterday.”

“I see,” Marcey said.

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