Preteen Vs. Call of Duty

Preteen playing Call of Duty and talking smack to his buddies:

• Dang it! Dang! Dang!
• Oh, I hit the python! (I don’t know what that means. I think he meant pylon, but even then, it doesn’t make much sense.)
• Oh, and a shot gun takes him out. That’s going to hurt in the morning.
• That must suck for that guy that tried to kill me.
• Hey, you took out your best player, me!

Yes, grown ups. He is that squeaky voiced tween that is kicking your butt and causing you to throw your controller across the room.

Me: Why do you sit so close to the TV, Preteen?
Preteen: It’s better to see.
Me: You’re going to hurt your eyes.
Preteen: I shall be fine.
Me: Back up a little bit.
Preteen: If I do I’ll die!
Me: It will be Ok, unlike real war, you’ll come back to life.

Preteen moves chair and dies.

(Editor’s note: In the game.)

(Editor’s other note: Dad secretly snickers.)

Preteen: Thanks, Dad!
Me: The Call of Duty Vision Insurance Plan sucks. I can’t afford the glasses.
Preteen: Huh?
Me: Don’t worry about it.

Life before Playstation.