By Andrew Blumetti
And now, a play-by-play of every time I’d play the classic Milton Bradley board game, Perfection.
You know the drill of this heart-attack in the making- twist, timer, tick, tock, trouble, and KA-BLOOM! A yellow mess on the rug that the dog isn’t responsible for this time.
Please enjoy, relate, and relive the hair-raising madness of the most nerve-racking minute you’ll ever come to experience in your lifetime. It’s cheaper than a shrink afterall…
Tick tick tick tick…
– Strap in for one minute of pure geometrical mayhem! In your face math!
I’ve just turned the cheap plastic round timer on my Perfection game, and that stupid thing is spinning faster than Amanda Bynes’ vision when she slunks behind the wheel on a Friday night. Gotta make sure not to over-tighten it though, that “Made in China” Smurf-blue knob looks like it’ll break if the wind blows too hard.
– Reaching over to that pile of golden plastic pieces, and fumbling around, there goes about five of them off the coffee table, and I’ve realized this godforsaken game would’ve been better played on the rug instead.
– Quick! Grab that triangle or square one or anything that looks like a simple Sesame Street-level shape, and try to fit it in game board holes while the gettin’s good. Basically, just avoid getting held up on those tricky looking ones from the island of misfit shapes, they’ll just gum everything up. Squeeze those in like a champ in the final precious seconds instead.
– The gravity of the situation hits like a splash of cold water: this game is for “ages 5+”, so at my current anemic pace, basically I’m handling this as badly as a kindergartener. After more nervous laughter than a first date, time to look at the timer on the game for some piece of mind.
– Phew! All that self-doubt was a mere overreaction… still have 35 seconds left. This thing’s money in the bank…
– Oops, spoke too soon- the faded numbers are impossible to read, it’s actually only 25 seconds left…
– And to top it all off, that nonstop ticking, which is the soundtrack to my obvious board game failure, is starting to make the hairs on my arm stand up straight. It’s like watching that scene in Paranormal Activity, when possessed Katie awakens, gets up and just stares at… wait, this isn’t the time for that!
…and is it me, or does the ticking seem to be somehow speeding up as time goes on? Is that physically possible? Is Milton Bradley practicing some sort of voodoo? Cause I don’t think they should be.
– Geez, why did I waste time thinking about the ticking? That was another precious ten seconds down the crapper…
– OK, down to just a few left, time’s running short, but it’s time to dominate this ticking time bomb like Tom Brady marching the troops down the gridiron with two minutes left. These back-against-the-wall heroics are what separates the men from the boys.
…but big time folly: those annoying shapes from before are still staring me in the face, laughing.
– Maybe I should just stop the timer for a couple seconds, you know, just to fit a few extra pieces in… nah, that’s cheating. I guess, right? …and I am an adult. …Stupid adults.
– …and to top it all off, I can’t believe they made me apply the stickers onto this thing myself. Cheapskates…
– Let’s see… nailed the diamond, star shape and the pentagon… can’t wait to push that switch that stops the game! No messy cleanup, no heart-stopping plastic explosion that I know is coming, yet still makes me jump. (I mean, who wants to go through that? Look at how those Caucasian kids are being thrown around on the box, I’m too delicate for that fate.) I’ll tell ya, if they gave out medals for Perfection playing, I’d pull in gold, silver and bronze. That’s right… all three platform levels.
Five seconds left! Better hurry!
– Crap on a stick! That stupid S-shaped piece that looks like Pac Man if Picasso got a hold of him then threw him in a blender. This awful thing always haunts me. I always fumble it the way an arena football player fumbles pretty much every play.
– This feels like watching one of those poor sap victims in a Saw movie watching the timer tick down till their arms and legs get yanked out.
3… (gettin’ hairy…)
2… (man up Andrew- it’s time for a last minute board game miracle…)
– Ahhh, stupid piece of plastic crap. It wasn’t me, the timer must be busted. Maybe they should call it Imperfection.
(That line was gold! I wish someone was here to hear that…)
– Ehhh, this Commie game’s for kids. I’ll clean it up later. I’m gonna go have some Fruit Roll-Ups.