ESCAPE DENISE... I MEAN ESCAPE THE ROOM

My main hag and I have a schedule. An itinerary of sorts you can say. Denise and I like things in order and our normal routine is a reflection of that. Playing online games is paramount in our never-ending quest for shits and giggles and remains a staple among the countless other activities that we collectively embrace...

During the gaps between our visits, Denise ensures me that she'll select newly added Point and Click games that she will personally filter through to make sure that they're at least translated into English. This is imperative due to the fact that many Point and Click/Escape The Room games are foreign... and by foreign, I mean the evil and annoyingly frustrating Japanese games. Have any of you seen some of these Japanese games? Some are extremely odd... and yes, even borderline creepy. Now don't mistake my frustration for racism, as I normally don't mind sitting near one of them people on the Subway, but when you're combing through a parade of non-English games created my mathematical masterminds, it charges that little nerve above my eyelid.

Occasionally Denise and I stumble upon a gem-of-a-game; a game that tickles our genitals and keeps us wonderfully perplexed with joy and enthusiasm. But that is where the fun takes a sharp dive into the abyss. Ever so often (usually 10 minutes into a game) Denise begins to refuse any input I may suggest. Not only will she ignore some of my comments as if I'm not even in the room, but she'll outright tell me that I don't know what the fuck I'm saying. Here's an example: "Hey Dee, you missed the key on the table, that's why you couldn't get that chest open..." She'll follow with: " That wasn't a key you pussyface, that was a salt shaker..."

Suffice it to say we do come across a memorable game now and then (1 out of 136) and when we do, we'll show our gratitude by cackling, and then sighing in unison. Creepy games aren't even considered on the play list if it's passed a certain hour (7:00pm is the cut-off) as Denise will sever my head if I even asked to play one. Our last encounter with a horror game left us both reaching for the adrenaline pills. Rotting hands reaching out of a decrepit fireplace or flashes of horrific skulls don't mix well with Denise, as I will receive the brunt of her wrath in the form of inanimate objects being chucked at my direction. It's not pretty when she's scared shitless...

If I ever come up missing, all you would have to do is trace the history on Dee's computer and uncover the time of the last horror game played. That would solve the mystery of my disappearance and surely reveal my time of death... you know... for medical records and shit.