Jacques the Game Genie

Now that it’s been almost 94 years, I suppose it’s well past time to tell this story. Almost 94 years ago, I was on my deathbed at the ripe age of seven, with my left hand between my legs for one last tug at my winky. You see, unfortunately, I had spent the past six months or so dying from a degenerative muscle disease. I remember thinking “golly, I sure wish I had another 94 years of life in me,” and then it happened; I realized that my fingers were not grasping my dong, but as it turned out I had been vigorously rubbing a strangely tubular, synthetic object with a small hole in one end. Suddenly, out from this glorious little hole came a man.

As this man looked at me, my eyes widened, and my jaw loosened. He was a translucent blue, and appeared to be levitating above my bed. The man turned round to take in his surroundings. As he did so, I got a clear look at his posterior. It was quite thicc.

“Boy,” he shrieked gratefully, like the most thankful of banshees, “you have freed me. I shall take my leave in a moment, but first—as I am obviously a genie—I will grant you a wish.”

“Don’t genies give three wishes?” I asked him.

“Don’t boys play outside?” His wit matched my own. I asked his name. “My name? I believe I was called… Jacques.”

A German genie? That seemed unlikely, but I trusted him. I trusted him because he came at a time when I had no other options left and also because he looked to be a trustworthy guy. I asked him about that wish.

“You’ve already made the wish,” he said. “And I’ve already granted it. Your disease is cured, and you will live another 94 years. Now go and enjoy your life—childhood, awkward teen years, and many decades of debt await you! Farewell!” And with that, he dove headfirst out the window.

Mere hours passed, and instantly I felt free of the muscular disease that had been the cause of such agitation for so long. I was ecstatic. So much so, in fact, that I backflipped out of bed and left the hospital, right here and there.

On my way home it occurred to me that I should celebrate, so I headed toward the nearest bar. Unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to enter, possibly because the bartender had heard I was ill. I decided not to correct his mistake and left, somewhat disappointed. However, I remembered that there was also a mall on the way to my living space. Inside that mall lurked the fabled “GameStop” I had always heard tell of from my friends. It was said this “GameStop” was full of games—video games, to be precise, and not just four or five, like my uncle Gary had given us with his Sega Master System. I went to the mall, eyes wide and mouth dripping.

Upon arrival at the “GameStop,” I noticed a large rectangular television set attached to the wall, which had advertisements for various products playing on it at regular intervals. One such advertisement described the Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini, which had released a few minutes prior to my entering the store. The Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini was a reproduction of the Super Nintendo Entertainment System that debuted in 1991, and it had 21 games built into it, including one that had never been available anywhere in the world until then. My younger sister loved Nintendo even more than I did, so I knew I had to have a Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini of my very own to bring home with me, and I had to have it that day. I asked the cashier if I could purchase a Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini, and he told me that because Nintendo had only made nine of them, they had sold out and that it would be impossible for me to obtain one. I whispered in despair.

“I wish I could purchase a Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini…”

Out of nowhere, my savior, Jacques, appeared.

“What the fuck!?”

I knew not what the words meant, but his face told me Jacques was confused. I was confused also. Jacques turned to me with fire in his mouth.

“How’s your freedom going?” I asked. “Also, more to the point, what are you doing here?”

When I asked this he looked stunned, as if I had shot him in the forehead with a paintball. “You mean you didn’t summon me?”

“Nope!” said I.

After telling the cashier about our dilemma, he was able to help us deduce that Jacques was now under my command for the rest of time. We tested this theory by looking at my hands to see if I was holding a Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini and, sure enough, right there in my small, boyish hands lay a brand new Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini. Jacques realized he would have to live with me now. I felt bad for him, so I decided to invite him to live with me. I limped home excitedly, with Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini in hand.

After turning the handle of my front door, I pulled it, and the door opened. I walked inside, turned to face the door again, grabbed the handle on the other side and pulled a second time. I pulled until the door made that familiar clicking noise that meant it was closed. A moment later, I pulled again, just to be sure it hadn’t loosened; my mother had instructed me to do so after the last time the neighbor’s kid walked in through the front door. Finally, I gripped the locking mechanism, grasping it firmly between my thumb and index finger, but not too firmly for fear of breaking it off. I twisted the lock and it turned quite smoothly, like a wooden spatula in a pan full of melted butter. I had successfully opened, closed, and locked my home’s front door. Satisfied with my accomplishment, I walked toward the sound of my family’s voices.

When I walked in the room, my father froze. After we thawed him out, my parent and sister started asking me how I could be up and walking. Looking back now, I suppose it was only natural for them to question this miracle, but at the time I was more interested in simply introducing Jacques and showing my sister the Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini I had procured.

“See?” my father said to my mother when I explained how I’d met Jacques and that he saved my life. “I told you that dildo would come in handy! I knew it was worth it!”

I knew not what the words meant, but I could tell by his body language that my father was happy. My mother and sister were happy also. When I told them all about Jacques’ problem, they quickly agreed to let him live with us since he’d saved me from a young death.

After the excitement died down a bit, I helped my sister hook the Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini up to our television. Unfortunately, it used some newfangled technology called “HDMI,” which our old, cubical TV set didn’t seem to support. That was when my sister spoke up.

“Isn’t Jacques a genie? He could help with this!”

Despite her age of three and a half years, my sister was unusually intelligent. We always chalked it up to all those educational horror films my father let her watch with him.

“Yeah, Jacques, can you help?” I asked. “Can you make the TV support HDMI? Please”

“It doesn’t work like that,” he replied. “You must wish it.”

And I did.

Suddenly, a hole in the shape of the cable that came with the Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini appeared on the back of the television. I inserted the cord into the hole with glee, and we watched as the screen lit up. Unfortunately, this glee was short lived, for we soon discovered there was but one game loaded by the Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini. We thought that was strange. My sister said to check the manual. When I looked to the box, something caught my eye. The Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini had changed color and was now red. My parents came over, and we all knew immediately that red was the color of blood.

“Jacques, why is this happening?” I asked to no avail, as my friend had vanished.

I turned to the TV again in shock and puzzlement, and to my befuddlement, the singular game had a peculiar entitlement. It was called “Plumbers Can’t Drift,” and it was not among those listed on the box. All of us were horrified, and my skin crawled, but still I felt compelled to pick up the controller. It felt nice and sexy in my hands. I gave the second controller to my sister, and we began to play.

The game was an odd one. It was a racing game featuring the small man they refer to as Super Mario and his friends, but it had no option for a multiplayer mode. Just as I was about to sadly inform my poor sister that only one of us could partake in this classic masterpiece at a time, she pushed the B button, and the game started. We were placed seventh and eighth out of eight racers. However, something was off. First, we were both Luigi, and I found that odd. Second, the game’s audio was slightly distorted. It was barely enough to notice, but my nose was sensitive enough to pick up on any sound tampering. I informed my family, but they had begun to reassure themselves of the safety of the game. I tried to convince myself they were right. Surely Jacques, my heroic bro, wouldn’t try to hurt me or my family, right? We played the game.

Plumbers Can’t Drift played mostly as one might expect, except for one thing—it simply wasn’t very good. How not good? It was so not good that, despite being somewhat hard to control, my sister and I found ourselves placing first or second in each race anyway. After only about 18 hours, we got bored and got up to do something else.

Later that night, I woke up feeling an intense thirst. I was so thirsty that I remember thinking about going to the refrigerator to pour myself not one, but two glasses of water. On the way there, however, the television screen lit up my peripheral vision and I went to investigate. My sister was there on the floor, legs crossed, playing Plumbers Can’t Drift. Without looking at me, she began to speak.

“Brother,” she said softly.

“Yes?” I answered, with a fair amount of unease.

“…Help me.”

I realized my sister was entranced. She’d been seduced by Super Mario’s fantastic antics, and she couldn’t stay away from the game! But no Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini could have done this to my sister. No, Nintendo wasn’t to blame for her addiction…

“Jacques!” I belched, and ran for the stairs, pulling my imprisoned little sister with me, far away from the demonic Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini. As I took the first few steps up them, I heard a thunderous crash behind me, and I turned to see Jacques himself burst out from inside the Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini. Something was very wrong. This was not my friend. This was not my hero. His pleasant blue color had changed to the red of blood. The Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini had returned to its original colors, as if Jacques had taken its previous color with him. He was much bigger than before, and seemed angry as well.

My sister seemed to snap out of her trance, and looked at me with wild eyes. I knew I had to get her out of that room. To this day, I don’t know what told me this—I just knew. I took her hand again and we ran upstairs to the second floor. Within a second after we reached the top portion of the house, the rooms below lit up, and parts of the floor started collapsing. Jacques was burning our home. We needed to stop him, or we might burn with it. I told my sister to find a hiding place that was away from the flames while I woke up our parents. When I did so, I exasperatedly informed them of the fire, and they both got up instantly. I darted back out of their room and into the hall.

“Jacques!” I yelled. “I’m here! You’re after me, right!?”

I needed to buy time for my parents to get ready. I ran to the closet that connected two rooms so I could escape if he came after me. Jacques came. I ran up to the closet and opened the door. When I opened the door a skeleton popped out!

I jumped, frightened, but just then I heard a noise and Jacques was hit in the side of the head by some unknown projectile. I looked in the direction it’d come from and saw my sister swinging the Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini controller around like an Olympic athlete swinging a hammer. Jacques started after her, but I punched him in the kidney and he fell to his knees, clutching his side and whimpering. We ran to our parents’ room again and bumped into them in the doorway. They were holding the real guns. They were ready.

“Pew pew, motherfucker!” my mother shouted. I knew not what the words meant, but the expression on her face made it obvious that she was aiming to kill.

As my parents opened fire, Jacques began to transform again. He went from burgundy to purple, and from purple to a deep blue until, finally, he was back to his old self. Moderately confused by the fact that he didn’t seem to die, I decided to try making a wish. Nothing happened. Suddenly, Jacques looked up and exclaimed that he was free.

“Thanks, bud!” he said. “Oh, I can’t thank you enough, seriously! This is all I’ve ever wanted! Freedom! I can do whatever I want now! I’m free!”

My dad shot him again. We all glared.

Later, we all sat down in front of the TV, including Jacques this time, to play some Super Mario Kart on our perfectly normal, non-haunted Super Nintendo Entertainment System Classic Edition Mini. Unfortunately, the game still wasn’t all that impressive, and we quickly got bored of it.