‘Don’t get too comfortable boys, we’re coming’
It was at 3am, October 12, 2013, and I had just downed about six beers. Crawling through a crush’s Facebook page, I went through a year or so of their profile pictures. I wished I could have their life.
Then I got an invite to play this game, Candy Crush.It was basically Yoshi’s Cookie but made to be more difficult and time-consuming. It was perfect. Each match got me closer and closer to happiness. I slowly became whole again.
CBS’ Candy Crush game show aired Sunday night and it killed me.
Candy Crushis a game show that pits four teams of two against each other for $100,000. For the first episode, the teams comprised of various people from CBS reality shows like Big Brother and Survivor.One of the contestants, a pink haired, glitter-hashtag-shirt wearing camera hog, was apparently famous for being Ariana Grande’s brother. Every time the camera would pass by he’d stare straight at it, and make some kind of quip like “Don’t get too comfortable boys, we’re coming for you.” Why did he say this? Apparently they lost to the other guys or something.
Look, I don’t really know what happened here. This show’s big claim to fame is its Guinness World Record winning touchscreen, and each phase of the game has contestants using it to play Candy Crushbut on TV and for money. After a few minutes, one of the teams hung from the ceiling as their partner guided them around the giant touchscreen and basically turned their partner into a human crane game. What fucking game was I watching? No seriously, I took some notes and I still don’t really remember how things got from point A to B.
At least Ariana Grande’s brother, Broriana Grande, was eventually eliminated. He didn’t crush candy fast enough or some shit.
Oh Mario Lopez, I love you so much. This golden boy hasn’t aged a day since his time as AC Slater, and he has spent the greater part of the decade just trying to get a hosting gig that’ll take him to the big time.Extra, Entertainment Tonight, America’s Best Dance Crew,andThe X Factorwere all just misinformed struggles for airtime. But you’ve finally found your place, buddy. You’re finally home. Your home is explaining the rules of Candy Crush and saying things like “match three candies in a line” and “sugar crush” all the while silently begging for death with your eyes.
You know, I haven’t thought about October 12, 2013 in a long time. But watching these people struggling to swipe a screen really brought me back. Back to the beginning. I too struggled. I-too-struggled. I–struggle. And for what? I’m not competing for $100,000, I don’t get to look Mario in the eyes, and when I swipe right it’s not for money and fame, it’s for the chance at a date with someone who will only hurt me.
But you know what won’t hurt me? Candy Crush.
Candy Crush is only here to entertain.
As the show drew to a close, I was awash in feelings I haven’t felt in a long time. The final two teams dueled to the death (or the first to get 50 matching candies), and I was all-in. I was at the edge of my bed, shoveling candy into my maw hoping to mask my inner turmoil withCandy Crush. But it all caught up to me. I began to choke.
Coughing, wheezing, one of my gummy worms had gone down the right pipe. The room got darker, and the walls were closing in. As my eyes filled with tears, I glanced at the TV and saw one of the teams from Survivor had won the $100,000 dollars. Good for them. I hope they have a good life.
I’m glad the last thing I saw that night was Mario Lopez beaming at me. You’re finally home, buddy. You’re finally home.
(Editor’s note: Nick is still alive. That’s how he wrote this.)