Happy Anniversary Overclocked!

the scummy, Zeroes Unlimited way... d00d

I walked into the Zeroes Unlimited offices. It was early, hell, I was early, relatively speaking; I could barely be convinced to come in and actually put in some work under any circumstances short of having a large-bore handgun pressed against my throbbing, drunken temple. But today was different, somehow, so I oozed out of bed and into some civvies and before I knew it, there I was at my desk, staring at yet another fucking abysmal video game and wondering why the hell I didn't get into sports or sodomy or gambling as a child, what with this level of horrible, half-baked bullshit to contend with as million-dollar entertainment. Still, there were (and are) big bucks to be squeezed out of nostalgia, so I opened up my extremely illegal copy of Dreamweaver and began hacking out another rambling, useless alleged "review"...

And then Monkey Donkey showed up. As far as I knew, the green bastard lived at the Zeroes Unlimited offices, which seemed about right -- it's not as if he had anything better to do. He loomed over my chair, the fouled air from his nostrils curling the tentative hairs on my back.

"Well you're here early," he sneered. I grunted and nodded; the last thing I wanted was to get dragged into a battle of words with Monkey Donkey, especially at six-thirty in the morning with a breakfast burrito rapidly cooling to inedibility on my desk, right next to a fourth-hand photocopy of the I'm Sorry owner's manual. "What's the special occasion? Sleepin' on the fuckin' sofa again?"

I heaved a sigh, hoping this would be enough to salve his bully instinct and answer his question simultaneously. But no, the useless cunt was still hovering over my workstation, clutching a barrel of rum like it was his only tether to reality and fogging up my monitor with his stinking, stale simian breath. I watched my screen as Rex Ronan became little more than a humid, pixillated memory.

"Well, actually, it is a special occasion -- it's Overclocked's 100th anniversary," I said, hoping this would be enough to get him to trudge over the the wall calendar as check it out... well, yes sir, sure enough, it is, guess I'd better get back to work, right? But no. He curled his lip. Again.

"Big fucking deal," he said. "So the Net's unfunniest emulation-related strip has a meaningless holiday. What's yer point?" I couldn't believe this.

"All right, you worthless piece of shit," I said, grabbing the barrel away from Monkey Donkey and plugging the spigot into my mouth. "Remember what you were doing before Overclocked offered to bring Zeroes Unlimited back from the dead? You were lucky to cut the ribbon at a fucking Radio Shack opening, much less have a regular spot on a highly visible emulation website. Face it, MC Monkey D: the people who remember your glory days aren't getting any younger... Overclocked is one of the things that keeps emulation alive, you silly bitch. When emulation goes, it's bye-bye, Monkey Donkey. You should thank your lucky stars Pretzel and Green even know your name..."

The "MC" remark stung -- he'd attempted to move to England and cash in on their acid house fad of the late 80's and early 90's, but found himself deported in short order for (a) not possessing a valid working visa and (b) not actually existing. For that matter, so did the "Radio Shack" remark. No one likes to be associated with Radio Shack if they can help it. And he was, and he knew it: everyone remembers that glowing green gorilla that said "You've got questions? I've got answers, cocksucker" to the smiling, cheerfully ignorant yuppie before crushing his head and taking a giant shit on his remains -- yep, that was Monkey Donkey.

So Monkey Donkey stomped off to his corner, picking up the phone and calling either his bookie or a phone sex line; an expense account has spoiled him, and having a pack of hard-bitten, perpetually drunk "journalists" around meant no one really gave a flying shit what he did with his time, as long as he was available for screenshots and endorsements. And I thought to myself:

Happy birthday, Overclocked. With baggage like this, we hope you survive...

(Maybe someone lost a bet, guys...)

Dramatis Personae

Our hero, barely dragging himself out of bed to work on the critically unloved Zeroes Unlimited. Bastards.

Monkey Donkey, professional shit-head and the first Zeroes Unlimited mascot. Thinks ever since he was emulated in MAME that his big break is just around the corner. What a schmuck.

Black Jesus, hired in Monkey Donkey's absence to open new Radio Shack locations nationwide. I was Black Jesus for Halloween one year. No one recognized me. Figures.

A couple of Indian mobsters. As in Bombay. Yes, really. They're the ones who finance Overclocked. And boy oh boy, do they think they're hard core.

The Icon of Love wants you to see the rest of Zeroes Unlimited. Don't let Barry down.