After the style of Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven
. Sort of.
On a morning errand hasty, I had bought a breakfast pastry,
For the gaijin who reside above the MegaGamers store,
Getting near, I heard a raving, many hundred fanboys waving,
Which I did not feel like braving, in the costume that I wore.
"`Tis some merchandise," I muttered, "drawing fans down to the store -
Only this, and nothing more."
Once the fanboy horde was nearer, my predicament was clearer,
I could tell who they were after by the mallets that they bore.
Greatly I had sought for quiet, no more fanboys, no more riots,
But like going on a diet, it came back to me once more -
All the fuss and all the pawing coming back to me once more -
Chased by fans forevermore.
What I needed was a safe place; I ascended the back staircase,
There I heard such noises as I had not ever heard before.
People trying to get decent, made me wonder at the recent
Goings on behind that decent storeroom-come-apartment door.
Piro like a deer in headlights when he opened up the door -
Saying "Geep!" and nothing more.
Once the doughnut's sweet aroma had awaked him from his coma,
Vainly tried he to amend the lack of clothes his roommates wore.
While I sipped my coffee, hearing, I remarked he should be fearing,
The potential scope for jeering at the sounds heard through the door.
(Though this seemed to be Piro's burden, one he had always bore.)
Quoth the Gamer, "Donuts? Sw33t!!"
Quietly we sat partaking, of that morning's toroid baking,
Soon devouring all the doughnuts leaving crumbs upon the floor.
As the others sat consuming, I thought of the spectre looming
That was all my future dooming, standing over me once more,
With it's ever spreading tendrils that were now outside the store.
Quoth the Gamer, "These baked goods have remarkable health restoring qualities."
One is wondering why I'm quiet, while the other hears the riot,
Piro panics and he cries "There's a huge crowd outside the store!"
All at once my phone is beeping, I suspect the boss is weeping,
And he's fretting over keeping all this business for the store.
I tell Piro he had better get his backside out the door.
I brought breakfast, nothing more.
Here the Gamer took to planning, the command post he was manning,
As though I was just some weakling female pleading at the door.
Stopping because I was glaring, now askance was at me staring,
Far was I beyond all caring as I headed for the door,
Roughly shoved aside the Gamer as I headed for the door -
Out I wanted, nothing more.
All at once I find I'm tripping, and thus with the Gamer gripping,
Soon I find myself unseemly in a sprawl upon the floor.
Looking up I heard a rustling, as of someone quietly bustling,
Several people quietly hustling for a way into the store.
They had found the outside staircase but could not get in the door.
Quoth the Gamer, "Hm. I seem to be incapable of movement."
I sit on the floor and ponder, that the last few days seem longer,
More filled than any of the days I remember from before.
Something's opened up the curtain, and my future seems uncertain,
Now the source of all my hurting has come knocking on my door -
And I'm holed up with this Gamer wondering what will be in store.
I want freedom, nothing more.
Despite my own estimation, it's been just a short duration,
Since the Gamer made his entrance grand to MegaGamers store;
With his garb and hair dishevelled, in his dumpster-diving revelled,
And the look he at me levelled, was more than I could ignore -
Piro warning him against it as he shoved him out the door -
Quoth the Gamer, "Woah. Bab3-O-R4m4. Are those real?"
True, the sight of him was fleeting, but it was not our first meeting,
I was working as a booth-babe (this is what I must endure).
There he noticed too my bodice, in a manner most immodest,
And I thought he was the oddest thing I'd ever seen before.
Though I would be well within my rights to throw him out the door,
I broke his arm, nothing more.
As a way of seeking pardon, I took both to the beer garden,
And secured for us a table on the balcony, third floor.
While indulging his obsession, I could see from his expression
This was no mere gaming session he related with fervour
And he raved of killing zombies while he downed beers by the score
Quoth the Gamer, "Y'know, when we get back to the apartment, I'd be happy to show you my cool thing."
While across at the next table, strangely things were much less stable,
Kimiko giving back the railcard he gave to her before,
As the Gamer talked unheeding the direction this was leading,
I carefully watched the meaning, sans the masks they often wore -
Piro was about to storm out, then resumed his seat once more.
He'd had one glass, nothing more.
The next day was even stranger, he was trying to arrange a
Pile of junk us to protect ('gainst what I am not really sure).
He remarked as he was gluing, what with chaos soon ensuing
The best thing I could be doing was returning to the store.
As I turned he grabbed my skirt and he accosted me once more.
Quoth the Gamer, "Wow!! What a piece! It's so smooth... Can I see it? Please?"
Next day again I caught him lurking, with a hint of interest perking,
I inquired why he was behind the counter of the store.
He told me: that very morning, he was given a fell warning,
One that hinted zombies spawning, and their target was the store.
Then he ran upstairs so he could man his "nukl34r fir3w4ll" core.
He's a loony, nothing more.
It was later on the same day when a creep crept in the doorway,
He had come to find his Idol in the MegaGamers store,
I did not see; my back was turned, this creep was by the Gamer spurned,
But as he parted his shouts burned me unto my very core.
Could it be that they had found me and I would be safe no more?
Quoth the Gamer, "I did warn you."
Now it seems my safety shattered, and the things I thought that mattered,
Are now washed out by the waves that break and wear away the shore.
Will I let this problem daunt me? Will the fans forever haunt me?
Is this fate's cruel way to taunt me; force me troubles to endure?
What can I do when trapped in this little room above the store?
Will I have peace nevermore?
I glance over at the Gamer, and start feeling slightly saner,
He is still there upside-down, trapped in a box upon the floor.
I'm almost led to giggles as he sits in there and wiggles,
And the box squeaks as he jiggles and it moves across the floor.
Can this idiotic Gamer help me free myself once more?
Quoth the Gamer, "This box is not l33t."