The Fall of the House of Al

[Brill Weave]

No my friends. This will not be another tale of Gentle Ben. Today I shall tell you a tale of agonizing defeat, glorious victory, and ultimately, the reclamation of the soul.

My friends I jest not when I say that the noble House of Al has long been held in regard as one of the greatest lineages in a truly magnificent sport. But Brill, what is this sport of which you speak? Could it be that your gentle nararrator has been caught up in the moment of victory of the Pittsburgh Steelers? Or has your noble sherpa been drunk with the intoxicating taste of victory against the dreaded New York Rangers that yours truly was present in attendance for?

A hearty nay I give thee. I do not refer to the noble sports of hockey or football. I am speaking of a sport greater than the both combined. A sport more noble than the game of peasants and noblemen alike.

My friends, yes, it is true. I speak of none other than the sport of competitive pinball.

Gentle reader, I would be remiss in my duties if I did not accurately retell this amazing story. So in order to do so, a little backstory may be in order.

A small number of you may remember a certain post by yours truly asking about several various pinball machines. So as you can see, your humble pathfinder does have some past encounters with the silver sphere.

A long standing colleague of mine named Brian had an ancient machine come into his possession. The laughter, the tears that we shared upon it's tarnished glass. The Big Shot truly was ahead of it's time. But all could not be so happy and gay forever.

The sky, once blue and sunny, had now turned grey and ominous. What is this I hear upon my cellular phone? Brian requires my aid at the utmost haste? Surely there must by a life or death situation for me to be summoned so hastily!

It is not so my friends. I had been duped. Upon my arrival I was greeted by a jubilant Brian standing outside of his humble abode. And what was next to him? Another large intimidating crate housing the silver spheres that would slowly destroy a man down to his very core.

But how could this be you ask? My friends rest assured, I once thought as you did before I was enlightened. But inside that black box, behind the Cryptkeepers twisted smile lurked something much more sinister. A Tales From the Crypt pinball machine would be the smallest of Brian's problems.

It was like the opening of a flood gate my friends. What had happened to my longtime friend? He had become a shell of his former self. As a loyal friend, I stood by his side. My beloved wife provided a shoulder to cry on for Brian's wife Cassandra.

Tales From the Crypt was soon followed by the Twilight Zone. Would there be an end to my friend's spiral into a world filled with flashing led lights? As my friend's departed for vacation to the wonderful friendly town of Detroit, I hoped with all my heart, that Brian would find his way back from the dark place he now wandered.

A week goes by with nary a thought about pinball. Brian and Cassandra return from their long trek and inquire as to our plans that evening. Happy to hear from our closest friends, we made the short trek over to their home and made ready for an evening of relaxation.

But what's this on the horizon? Yes my friends, another machine. Brian in his pinball fueled stupor had purchased The Black Hole. Now before we go any further young readers, I must also point out that being the kind loyal friend I am, I gladly helped Brian move these awkward behemoths into his palace's gameroom which was the lowest room in the house.

And my friend's I do not joke when I say that these abominations weighed more than I could have ever possibly imagined. And in order to move these monstrosities, the mighty metal legs needed removed for us to safely maneuver the narrow archaic hallways of Brian's regal home.

Now my friends, I will not insult your intelligence by attempting to describe the agony I experienced as I rested each one of those machines upon my broad shoulders and back as Brian slowly reattached the legs to these beasts.

But I digress, and my tale has grown long winded. Brian has now built his library up considerably. Now where there was once nothing, there are four pinball machines as well as two coin op arcade boxes.

My friends, I thought that Brian had reached the point where nothing more could be done. A merciful end, the only thing my mind kept returning to.

But I was wrong my friends. None of us could have even imagined what came next. Gentle readers, Brian had discovered a local pinball league's website.

I will not utter a single degrading word for those of you who are too frightened to subject yourselves to the horrors of that unspeakable site.

To spare your senses from the onslaught that will no doubt occur should you become one of the mindless sheep to visit that site, I will explain.

My most dear friend Brian had done the unthinkable, and joined a competitive pinball league. For the duration of their "season" I was consistently asked to be present at their events. I always declined. Being an adult I chose not to devote my time to childish antics and decided it best to play Mario Kart.

One day, my senses took leave of me and I accepted an invitation to the House of Al. The journey did not start well my friends. Brian graciously decided to drive and I happily accepted. Seeing as I did not want to bring anything cumbersome with me, should I need to engage in fisticuffs, I left my overcoat within my carriage.

A mistake I would rue. Brian, in his unnatural excitement about playing pinball, neglected to tell me his heater had broken the day before in his truck. It was a particularly brisk day. With a balmy high of nineteen degrees.

Upon our arrival thirty minutes later, I was shocked to see the House of Al. Upon entering I immiediately noticed a strange lack of, well, everything. A small chair stood in front of a lowly entertainment center, devoid of all things that provided said entertainment.

From the depths of a darkened staircase I could hear raucous cheering and laughter. Surely nothing could be so terrible if it provided that much merriment? Gentle readers, I will not lie, as I descended that spiral staircase my heart leapt into my throat.

Feeling a little like Alice I reached the end of the looking glass. The sheer assault upon my senses nearly caused me to panic. Lights flashing everywhere, sounds that were so unnatural it would shake the most stoic man, I was surrounded by pinball machines. But that was not the most horrifying thing, said machines were surrounded by pinball afficionados.

A rare breed indeed. These "men" and "women" chose to sacrifice all the basic comforts in lieu of their search for the next "pin" as they called it. As I slowly felt my way through the room I noticed a shadow looming over me. I turned and came face to face with the lord of the manor, Al himself.

Emotion took over me. Shock? Fear? Mostly revulsion and a sort of morbid fascination. His pasty white skin contrasted with his slight beer belly and his extremely short cropped "spiked" hair.

As Brian made the introductions I shook Al's hand. Now, my friends, I do not need to tell you that a man can tell a lot with a handshake. Al's handshake was weak and full of masked angst.

I watched as against my wishes, Brian signed me up onto the website. And then something strange happened. These strangers began to speak to me, and "challenge" me to games. My friends I must be honest, I lost myself in their cheering as I played for hours against the others.

Only Al stood behind. Like an ever present shadow lingering beyond the corner of your eye. I was soon learning the ropes of the "pin" scene. I learned about the ranking system, and my profound shock when I learned that Al was among the top ten players within the United States.

A strange mix of awe and sadness came over me as I heard these words. Time has come and gone and I still participate in a few games from time to time. Most recently, my loyal friend Brian, held a "pin" challenge at his abode this past eve.

A grudging yes was my answer when asked if I would be coming. My beloved wife had once again made buffalo chicken dip to bring to add to the merriment(and yes, Gentle Ben has apologized.) As we showed up late a buzz was generating through the house. I caught wind of it as I walked past the foyer. Al wished to challenge me upon a game of my choosing.

Now my friends, I am no great pinballer. I am merely average at best and I continue to play to make sure my oldest friend meets no harm. But there is one game that upon which, I shall ravage you like a barbarian discovering a virgin of yore.

The great equalizer. The division by zero. The Black Hole.

I could hear it in the distance calling me with it's familiar siren call. "No One Escapes the Black Hole" filled my ears like a symphony of the ages. Both past and present met as I bravely confronted Al. He looked at me as a cat looks upon a mouse. For my part, I played the role well, not wishing to tip my hand too early.

The challenge had been issued and accepted, the look of shock upon Brian's face almost comical as he knew what was coming. Gentle readers, a challenge, once issued, is played to the best of three games.

I strode up to the panel, lovingly gazing upon the screen. Caressing the flippers buttons like a lover exploring every part of his beloved's body.

The game was afoot. As I fired off my first ball Al laughed and spoke behind me about how his skill was greater than everyone else's. Yet there was a trump card my friends. Al, in his overzealousness to show off neglected to pay much attention to one thing. He had never once played The Black Hole in his years of pinballing. This was my only chance.

My hope quickly turned to despair as I drained my first two balls quickly with few points. I watched as Al proceeded to raise the score, all the while gloating that I never had a chance.

The game ended poorly my friends, and I was embarassed by the score, 274,050 to 32,075. I watched as Al cavorted around the room, going so far as taunting my beloved wife with his thrashing of me. Would this be the end? Had the House of Al once again begun the now familiar ritual of being a poor winner?

Not quite my friends. You see, The Black Hole is a low scoring tempestuous bitch of a game. And I had willingly thrown the first game my friends.

Al, full of himself, stepped up to The Black Hole and began game two. Another well played ball netted Al a respectable 75,000 to start. Brian behind me, long since figuring out my ploy, snickered as I stepped up as Al serenaded me with Na Na Na Na, Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye.

As I began to play, the song gradually stopped as Al soon began commenting on everything from my playing to the weather. As I finally drained my first ball, the score read 873,020 to 75,000. I had silenced the House of Al with one ball.

For his part, Al played the fool well. As he attempted to boost his own flagging spirits with false bravado, he began ball two. Another respectable attempt gained a little ground as the score became a bit more close, 873,020 to 345,090.

My friends, after my second ball, the second game was effectively over. My mastery of the bitch Black Hole left Al standing quiet, dejected beside me as I rolled the score screen over and had ended my second ball with a total score of 1,650,940.

Al finally realized he had been duped. I was not a mere amateur player when it came to The Black Hole. The House of Al was in danger and for the first time, felt fear in front of a "pin."

He played valiantly, knowing this round had been lost. I felt no need to further flaunt my victory in his face, so I took the "pin high ground" and let my last ball drain without adding to my sizeable score.

Silence filled the room. Could this pinball neophyte possibly take a second game from the House of Al? Was he a prodigy? Did he play the game by smell?

I led off game three as Al nearly shouted that he was now finished playing around and would "put me in my place." I am not a man who is prone to bouts of anger or frustration. Patience is something that I have in abundance.

For another man to say he shall put me into my place, is an unforgiveable thing to me. My rage building, I announced that the game would be over before the House of Al could even get his first ball off.

The laughter, led by Al, was deafening as Brian stood, shaking his head. Twenty minutes later, the only sound to be heard was the cacophony chimes of the score board raising higher and higher. As I stepped away when I lost my first ball, Brave Brill Weave had rolled the score board over twice and received two extra balls.

The score you ask my friends? 2,981,230 to 0. As I had two extra balls remaining, The House of Al began to crumble. Gone was the harsh sound of his braying voice, much like a donkey forced to work. He stood unsteadily as he began to comment on his allergies.

You see my friends, the House of Al has an ace up his sleeve. This man apparently has the worst immune system outside of Ethiopa. It's an amazing coincidence that it occurs when his crown appears to be in jeopardy. But brave, lost Brian, had an ace up his sleeve as well. As the challenge had already been joined Al could not depart without forfeiting.

Redfaced and intimidated, Al shuffled up to the flippers, his every breath sounding like his last. I will say this to you my friends, Al was a worthy opponent, and I have no doubt that upon another machine, I would have been quickly defeated.

But not upon the Back Hole, never her. She is mine as I am hers. The final score my friends? Unimportant. I shall not flaunt my win but suffice it to say that I shall most likely never be challenged upon The Black Hole ever again. My finest moment was also my last. The House of Al had fallen in the eyes of many. As had his rank.

And that is how I brought about the fall of the house of Al.

[Kiro]

I can't believe I read all of that, rofl. Good shit.

[Vandole]

wat

[tyven]

god dammit i have errands to run. cant wait to read this when i get home!

[MisterBob]

uh, ok

[Karshe]

Good stuff, better than buffalo chicken dip.

[Brill Weave]

For those of you asking wtf, apparently people like when I write them stuff to read for some reason. Here's the prior two. It's more fun way to bitch and rant without actually bitching and ranting.

http://www.bluegartr.com/forum/gener...you-story.html

http://www.bluegartr.com/forum/gener...nd-making.html

[Attila]

So... many.....WORDS.

I think it almost makes it better knowing these things before hand, and then hearing it in such interesting style.

[Vandalhart]

I'm surprised the whole group didn't take you into an alley and beat you with pinball machine legs How dare you embarass their leader in front of them.

Good read.

[zoobernut]

A+ would read again. Brill Weave never fails to deliver. All I heard in my head while reading that was "Pinball Wizard".

I would like to join the ranks of people who wish for BrillCS to officially be renamed to Brill Weave!

[-Zer0-]

You've dug yourself a hole now...Al will come back for revenge one day!

[Seraph]

You've dug yourself a hole now...Al will come back for revenge one day!

Gonna wake up with the broken pieces of a pinball machine in the bed next to you.

The horror. The horror.

[Shuemue]

You jumped the shark imo. No amount of flowery language can disguise a boring story.

[Dimmauk]

I'm still waiting for the Audio Version. My eyes have ADD, and cant read all that shit.

[Shuemue]

I'm still waiting for the Audio Version. My eyes have ADD, and cant read all that shit.

Cliffnotes: He beat a guy at pinball

[zoobernut]

Addendum to the cliff note: He beat one of the top 10 pinball players at pinball crushing his ego and humiliating him in front of his pinball buddies.

[Dimmauk]

So was the Black hole really a Pinball Machine? Or was it an Anus?

[hagun]

Fun ready, funny too.

Nice work.

[Shuemue]

Addendum to the cliff note: He beat one of the top 10 pinball players at pinball crushing his ego and humiliating him in front of his pinball buddies.

And Ryko is one of the leading Brawl pro's in the country, doesn't stop him being garbage

[zoobernut]

I never said anything about the validity of his claim to be one of the top 10 pinball players I just thought that was a very funny part of the story.