Published: 2025-08-15

It was a Saturday night. Steve and Howard sat on the couch playing video games, like they always did. Steve’s small living room was their game room, and besides the couch, it had everything they could ask for. A TV to plug their consoles into, and a window to get fresh air. Nothing could be better than this.

As they played Street Fighter II, Steve Said:

“Have you ever noticed how every monster you kill in a JRPG drops gold?”
“Yeah, I have. So?” Howard replied.
“So, it suggests there's a monster economy out there.”
“Oh, crap. Here we go again.”
“No, listen.” Said Steve. “They carry gold. And why do they do that? Well, probably because they use it as a universal exchange value, as we humans do. So the next time you kill a slime in Dragon Quest, think you could be condemning its kids to starve to death. The poor Slime was probably on their way to the supermarket.” “When I kill a Slime in Dragon Quest, I'm making its kids orphans. So, it doesn't make that much of a difference.”
“Shit. I lose again.”
“It’s because you keep talking about Slimes being single moms in Dragon Quest, instead of trying to block my hadoukens.”
“Yeah, yeah. Gonna grab a beer, want one?”
“You know it.”

Steve stood up from the couch, and Dorito’s crumbles fell from his lap and sprinkled over the floor as if it were fairy dust. He walked to the kitchen and took two beers from the refrigerator. When Steve returned to the living room, Howard quickly put his phone away.

“There you go. Go OK with imported beer? We’re out of the local stuff.” “It’ll have to do.”

Howard took a gulp of his beer and said:

“Bitburger? This sure don’t taste like meat.”
“Bro. The hell you saying?”

They both laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“So, who were you talking to?” Steve asked.
“Mmm… You know. Mom.”
“Well, would you look at that. Howard’s a mama’s boy.”
“Stop that, you idiot. You know how moms are.”
“Yeah… Mom was like that, too.”

Steve took a gulp of beer.

“Man, we doing this or what?” Howard asked.
“Oh, you know we are.”
“I think the score is 22-17.”
“Nobody asked you, Howard.”
“I know. But it feels good saying it.”

Steve and Howard kept playing video games until suddenly, the power went out.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Steve said.

Howard noticed how light from street lamps penetrated the room through the small window.

“Dude, I think you’re the only one that lost power,” Howard said.
“Great, just what I needed. Will probably have to wait until tomorrow to get it fixed. Plus, I was about to break my losing streak.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It was 28-24, Howard. I was getting there.”
“Yeah, yeah.”

The apartment fell silent for a brief moment. Howard broke the silence by saying:

“I guess video games night is over. I'd better go home and catch some Z’s.”

Steve was sitting on the couch with a disappointed look.

“I guess I’ll see you later, man,” Howard said.
“You know, there’s still a six-pack of Bitburger in the fridge. We may as well finish it.”
“Two guys drinking in the dark? And do what?”
“Talk.”
“Oh yeah? Talk about what?”
“I don’t know, man. Stuff?”
“…Alright. Stuff is fine.”

Steve brought the six-pack and put it over the coffee table. They both opened a can and started drinking.

“You know, there’s this vampire hunter movie showing in theaters, we should go watch it,” Steve said.
“Vampire hunter? You mean like Van Helsing?”
“Gosh, I hope it's not like Van Helsing. That was trash.”
“It wasn’t trash. It was an OK movie.”
“No, it was definitely bad.”
“You know, that’s the problem with you. You and your imported beer. You think stuff has to be fancy to be good. I say it doesn’t have to.”
“I thought you liked Bitburger.”
“It’s not about Bitburger. It doesn’t matter if a beer has a fancy name or whatever; it’s just beer. The same with Van Helsing, it’s just a movie. It was OK.”
“Alright, dude. If you say so, it’s fine. It was an OK movie.”

Howard stretched his arm and grabbed two cans of beer, one for him and one for Steve.

“So, what do you say we go watch that movie next weekend?” Steve asked.
“Next weekend? I don’t know, man. I might be busy.”
“What do you mean ‘busy’? It’s the weekend. That’s what we do on weekends. We horse around, watch movies, and play video games.”
“Yeah, we do, right?”

Howard's phone started buzzing.

“Boy, your mom surely wants to talk to you tonight,” Steve said.
“That ain’t my mom. That’s probably Cindy.”
“Who’s Cindy?”
“You know the girl who works at the grocery store near the park? Tall, blonde, you know Cindy.”
“Oh yeah, I’ve seen her.”
“She pregnant.”
“Boy, that’s rough. How old is she? 19?”
“It’s my kid.”

The apartment fell silent. Steve reached for two beers, one for himself and the other for Howard.

“We fooled around a couple of times, nothing serious, you know? Then one day she dropped the bomb on me.” Howard said.
“What are you gonna do?”
“What can I do, Steve? I’m gonna man up. That’s what I’m gonna do. It ain’t nothing else to do.”

Steve put a hand on Howard’s shoulder and said.

“That’s very brave, man. You’re doing the right thing.”
“Yeah? It doesn’t feel that right to me.”

Howard stood up from the couch, walked to the window, and, while looking at the street lamps, said:

“We’re leaving town, Steve. We’re gonna get married. Her parents arranged everything for us. We’re gonna live on a farm they own, near the city.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Sooner rather than later, Steve. I’ll be gone before the weekend.”

Howard walked to the coffee table and placed his can of beer in the center of it.

“Thanks for the beer, man. Imported or whatever. It was good. Too bad we didn’t get to play a little longer tonight.” He said.

Howard left. Steve, still sitting on the couch, took the last sip of his beer and said, “I was good beer, indeed.”

THE END.