Gamesmanship

Given the recent hub that 5629 has become for gaming, I felt like a post was in order.  It arguably began when I absolutely slaughtered everyone that challenged me in Goldeneye, but it definitely heated up when Pussyhands thought his floppy fingers could be dexterous enough to beat me in Blitz.  After making Pussyhands... uh... "no longer exist on earth" (I guess that's what the young people say now for embarrassingly destroying Tarry's fragile masculinity) several times, there came a lull in gaming.

Now, we have Mario Golf from T-Bar, which brings in a whole new and strange element to our shit talking.  On one hand, as much of an urge as you have to tell Le Malde to eat shit as he lines up his drive, you also have an odd desire to share some bromaraderie by giving advice on his putts.  As an angry T-Bar spikes our only good controller on our stained carpet, I have an inkling to reprimand him.  Granted, a comical argument ensued which almost drove T-Bar out of the room after either a) peeing on our carpet and taking the game or b) punching Tarry in the face and taking the game.  Unfortunately neither situation occurred, and the game casually progressed with people being for the most part quiet while putting took place.

I'm not sure why the shit-talking took respective leave during Mario Golf.  The entire point of shit-talking in videogames is to fuck with Tarry, or maybe some other bros in order to throw them off.  From now on Le Malde gets no tips on drives unless they're going in the water.  He showed no mercy to T-Bar when he tricked him into driving the ball 4 yards.  But T-Bar... come on...