Dead Pixels

You're probably wondering why I'm buying so many bananas.

There's a game called Kingdom Scrolls,

and there's a section called the Endless Maze,

and I'm attempting to become the first person ever

to complete it entirely on...

..bananas. Correct.

I know. Sure. Lots of questions.

Basically, I attach an earthing cable to myself.

When I touch the fruit, it sends a signal to the keyboard.

Bunches on the left cover directions.

Bunches on the right, attacks, spells and defence.

"Why would you do that?" You might ask yourself, quite rightly.

To that I would say, because someone on a forum I sometimes read

said I probably... couldn't do it.

"But, Nicky, why would you book five days' annual leave

"just to prove a point to someone you've never met?"

And to that I would say, because I am spiteful,

lonely...

and pathetic.

And with that...

And with that... Oh.

And with that...

he took his bananas and never did darken her checkout again.

Adieu, milady.

Oh, Meg! You're...

not in your room. Well observed, Alison.

Spilled yoghurt drink on my swivel chair.

No, obviously.

Tried drying it with a hairdryer.

Now my whole room smells like hot raspberries.

So this is Simon. He's in the orchestra.

Easy, Simon.

Tell him what you do, Meg, on the computer.

I'm a hunchback. Ah.

She's trying to save the Ninth Kingdom from the Hive Mother.

You probably have an image of it being a bit...

But to her, it's real.

It's like having a life, in a way,

because we've been out,

but YOU'VE been out as well, haven't you, Meg?

And who's to say which one's more real?

Cos we might all end up like Meg one day -

blobs on a futon, attached to a computer.

It's coming.

It will happen.

So any plans for Valentine's Day? Yup.

I'm just gonna sit here and wait

for the yoghurt to dry on my swivel chair.

Meg, we were gonna cook something together.

Don't mind me. I'm not even here. The vessel's empty.

Physically I'm here, but mentally I'm somewhere else. - Right.

Could you be mentally somewhere else but also physically somewhere else?

I need this, Meg. I need to quench.

Is that what we're calling it now? Quenching?

I wouldn't know since my nubbin scabbed over and dropped off.

I'll go when my chair's dry.

Let me see if I can fix it with a towel.

So, Valentine's Day. What's the plan, then, Simon? What?

Have dinner, then fuck and watch a movie. - Sorry?

The question is, though, fucking before dinner or after dinner?

Cos fucking's a bit like cheese.

It can either be a starter or a pudding.

I'm just gonna... erm...

I managed to blot most of it up with a towel.

Safe.

Have a good night, love pets.

Oh.

I can't believe you actually did it, Nicky.

The Endless Maze on bananas! Total madman.

What can I say? It was a triumph of human spitefulness.

Because somewhere out there is a person...

and I can't remember his username

cos I lost the link, but he is feeling pretty stupid right now.

Yeah, cos he's the idiot in this story,

not you, the man who was crying

on the landing at 4am stomping on bananas.

Exactly, Meg.

Everything's pointless. We just ascribe our own meaning to things.

Who's to say it's any more or less

pointless than... running the London Marathon for four years?

OK, Nicky. Is this about your brother?

No, Meg, this is not about my brother.

This has absolutely nothing to do with my brother.

This is about my dad,

and I cannot wait to see his face when I tell him what I've achieved.

OK, I'm out of here.

My wife's made me a big Valentine's

lunch - steak, cheesecake, the whole nine yards.

Ah, good for you. Don't choke, will you!

Oh, perfect! They're doing it!

Alison and Simon are doing it!

That is so passive-aggressive. - Is it?

That is passive-aggressive bonking.

Alison is basically rubbing her vagina in my face.

Happy Valentine's Day, Meg.

Valentine's Night and I'm punching a wooly mammoth to death with my

bare hands while Alison just wafts her clit about!

Well, like I always say, it's only depressing if you think about it.

Tell my mother I love her cos I'm about to wank myself to death!

Hey, Russell.

Have you seen this?! There is Kingdom Scrolls pornography!

There are drawings of the characters

but they're all dirty! Like proper muck!

I'm looking at them right now - Yeah, we know.

It's Kingdom Scrolls hentai, and it's old.

There are some talented artists

out there. These dicks are almost photo-real.

I can't stop jerking off,

though there's basically nothing left down there.

You know an inhaler, when you squirt it

in the air? My dick does that now every time I climax.

No sperm, not any more, not for days.

Just... pfff.

It just goes pfff, and it makes a kind of thin mist.

My banjo string is round my ankles.

My foreskin looks like a battered piece of calamari!

Sorry. Russell, Yeah.

Plus it's Valentine's Day, so it

only feels right to be jerking off over drawings of sexy fairies.

So, listen, Russell.

I never did give you those combat lessons.

Maybe we could head out OK, sure.

I'm back. What did I miss?

Usman? I thought you were having lunch.

Yeah, I had it. I just wolfed it.

It's got to be a record. I don't

think anyone's ever eaten steak that quickly.

Man, that is sitting heavy.

This is taking way too long.

I've got to go. I've got dinner at my parents'.

Hurray! We killed it!

So, how are those radiators? I don't suppose you bled them?

It's really not that difficult. It is for me, Dad.

Last time I tried bleeding the radiators,

I spewed molten hot fluids all over my hands and torso.

And I actually cried. - I know you did, Son.

Ah. Right.

Obviously.

Your brother's back in training. Doing the Boston Marathon next.

He's already raised about 4,000 in sponsorship.

Well, I completed a game on bananas, Dad.

Don't know what that means, Son.

You don't need to know what it means.

I am the first person in the world to do this.

Mark Chapman was the first person

in the world to shoot John Lennon, so...

Fine. Forget it, Dad. Doesn't matter.

What I mean is - why don't you show me how it works?

You know, the game.

Oh, sure.

Be nice for us to do something together.

When you get home tonight? - Yeah?

Cos I know you're not really into football.

Or rugby.

Anyway, love...

Golf. Boxing. Tennis.

Archery. Hockey.

Is this where we do our combat lessons?

Kind of, yeah.

Uh... What is this?

This, young Paduwan, is the future of fucking.

It's early days. We're still waiting on the tech to catch up.

But give it five years, seriously,

the next generation of smart vibrators will change the world.

Then you sync that up to some 4K VR porn with a pair of haptic gloves

and you get your Bluetooth love egg involved, and, well...

no-one will ever have to touch anyone ever again.

That's...

I know it is, and that's within my lifetime.

I've never seen anything like this before.

Is that a cat wanking off a robot? This is an outlaw server.

It's hosted outside of international waters.

Apparently it's run from an oil rig off the coast of Zimbabwe.

And who's this guy? - Oh. That's Mitchell.

He does that.

In fact, IRL he's a professor

of macroeconomics at Liverpool University.

You wouldn't think it, would you, the way he's doing that?

Hello, Professor.

Anyway, Meg, in regards to these combat lessons...

Look, I'm not gonna butter this up for you

but for various reasons, some of

which are relatively questionable,

I'm basically bursting at the seams tonight.

My downstairs is like a burrito with too much filling in it.

Do you understand what I'm saying, Russell?

Sorry, I'm finding it quite hard to concentrate with this guy er...

Great. Let's fuck.

So this is my castle.

14 bedrooms, plus a dungeon.

Has the capacity to house 20 adult slaves.

Do you want one?