Unpacking is a game about decluttering.
A long time ago I trafficked drugs. Legally, of course. All above board, just two black teens driving an unmarked white van full of exotic class A's servicing central valley's worst hoods in the nineties'. Kids, please listen when I say the nineties were on some whole different shit. And it was still somehow an drastic improvement to the eighties.
Everyone was appropriately mortified when I told them what I did for work, sure that nerdy old me would be snatched up by the jungle in no time. The only ones who weren't were my family, who had seen me walk ass backward through hells labyrinths without a singe so many times that they regarded me as The Fool of tarot card legend. A real deal, movie style, lucky idiot.
And they were right, I got through years of that job without a scratch. Caught none of the ailments our patients had, developed no bad habits I didn't have before, crossed no man nor beast, and walked the breadth of the shadow of the valley unharmed. The hardest part of the job for me were the goddamn clients families.
There was this one patient dying of something or other in a southside project. Covered in psoriasis, emaciated, eyes slipping in and out of the uncanny valley, normal shit. Anyway, his son paid the rent and medical for the place, a lawyer or something, and he would be there from time to time when we showed up, pacing and smoking while yelling at his dad, all types of foul shit. Then when he had his fill he would flick the cigarette at him and walk out, never acknowledging us.
After he left his dad would say stuff like "That's my son, he's a big time lawyer, so proud of him." The dad died alone in the dark one random night, when we walked in the room his body smelled like shit and almonds.That lawyer kid is now a popular politician and I often wonder what twenty five years of the type of unchecked hate I saw in his eyes back then could metastasize into. But, I mean, he's smiling on tv so maybe he's better now.
Anyway, looking back I still feel like an idiot for selling an original Chrono Trigger carriage back to FunColand for like eight dollars. Fuckin' dummy. Oh, and we did a lot of packing in that gig which is why I bring it up. Unpacking is a really good game too, btw.
Rip TB Rip TC Rip Tall-T. Love is wise hatred is foolish. Get out there and do great things, we believe in you. Also jobs.
