The Debaucherous Quest For The Xbox 360

TAMPA, FL – While enjoying my usual drunken Monday evening routine watching the Ageless Bull lead the tormented Minnesota Vikings past the Green Bay Packers on Monday Night Football, my editor at, Egbert Souse, phoned me with an urgent request.

I flung the stained aluminum foil filled with chewed chicken wing bones and squeezed lemon rinds off my lap and stumbled over empty bottles of Old Crow whiskey as I lunged for the phone, which I barely answered in time before the call went to my voicemail. Egbert was especially direct, which was an odd thing for this brutish, foul man — so I knew instantly this was an important phone call.

“I need you to get off your drunk ass and find me a bundle of Xbox 360s. I’ve got a hot deal in the making with a group of Turkish radicals.”

I replied, “Why don’t you get them yourself. I don’t want to get tangled up in your business – those Turkish fuckers don’t joke around.”

Sounding desperate, Egbert says, “I’m fucking stuck in customs. These bastards are likely to keep me here all night. I need you to do this…”

Feeling especially annoyed, I said, “Fine. What the hell should I do?”

“Okay. They are scheduled to be released at midnight tonight. You’ve got three hours. Can I count on you?”

I jumped in my car, which I shouldn’t even have been driving, due to the damaged CV joint that was bound to crack at any moment, and I headed out. I knew finding an Xbox at the last minute before its release would be a daunting task – almost futile even – but after tormenting juices of Old Crow began to set in, I was feeling a bit lucky. And I would need all of the luck I could get on this particular night, because my driver’s license had been revoked last week for failing to appear in court after running into a motorcycle while trying to skip out on a bar tab at a low-life biker bar out on U.S. 301 last month.

The decision on what retail establishment to hit up first was a difficult one. I thought about heading north towards New Tampa, where most of the upper class of new, young professionals in the Tampa area reside. This was a bad idea, though, because these are the exact type of individuals who not only have money to purchase frivolous things such as video games, but also have such depressing lives and undeveloped friendships in their life that playing video games and sitting at home, rotting, plays a very crucial role. The alternative was to head to the ghetto, where the neighborhoods are filled with a multitude of game-playing, thuggish fiends, but these gamers are of a different breed – they more often than not have less disposable income, between the massive drug abusers, the unemployed, and just the plain unlucky scum suckers. There no doubt would be a large group of people waiting in line to purchase an Xbox, but the numbers would be lower than my alternatives and also there’d be fewer of those who’d reserved their own units, so I figured I stood at least a fighting chance.

The South Tampa Wal-Mart is a great place for those interested in conducting in-depth character studies…. all sorts of things, like discoveries of new languages, and studies of primitive cultures can be done at a place like this. When I arrived, I saw a long line formed outside of the store for all of those waiting to purchase an Xbox, which was odd because the store was actually open. I stood in line for a bit, about fifty or sixty people back. I was standing behind a thin, dirty-blonde haired, trashy woman, who couldn’t have weighed in over ninety pounds, and she was holding her infant sloppily and carelessly in her arms.

“This freggin’ thing is a real tough cookie, no?” I said to her.

She turned around to see who spoke, and after she got a look at me she squinted her face in disgust. She probably smelled the whiskey.


“Oh, nothing. Just flapping my lips.” I could see this woman wanted no part of any type of conversation, whether it be because she viewed me as a rotten scumbag, which is still up for debate, or because she belonged to one of these primitive cultures I was thinking of earlier and she didn’t understand my language. She was probably sent here by her ex-con, drug-abusing boyfriend who beats her, and she was probably feeling a bit soured about it. Regardless, I could see I would get no sort of jump on the crowd of dregs by waiting here in this God-forsaken line. I was going to have to come up with a better plan, and I was going to have to do it quick, because the clock was ticking – down to an hour and a half and counting.

Tune in next time for part two of this exciting story: Same Lush time, same Lush place.



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