THREE CONVERSATIONS WITH HIBBS

CONVERSATION ONE:

This is how Hibbs greeted me last Friday when he walked into work.  “Curse you, Jeff Lester!  Curse you!!!”

I looked around the empty store.  “This doesn’t have to do with me doodling naked pictures of Jughead and putting them in the sub boxes, does it?”

Hibbs narrowed his eyes.  “Not until you mentioned it, it didn’t.  Double curse you!”

“Wait, what was the first curse for, then?”

Hibbs mashed a fist into his palm.  “I’m cursing you because you’ve talked me into buying City of Heroes for the PC.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.  In the next twenty minutes.”

I pried open the tab of my fifth can of Diet Coke.  It was a little past noon.  “Why the next twenty minutes?”

“Because I figure that gives me enough time to catch the bus, get down to the EBX, buy the game and get back here.”

“Why don’t you just go now?”

Hibbs rolled his eyes and sighed.  “Because you haven’t talked me into yet!  What are you, stupid?”

“But why do I have to talk you into buying City of Heroes at all?”

“That way if Tzipi asks, I can tell her you made me do it.”

“Why don’t you say that anyway?”

“What, and lie to my wife?”

“Sorry, it just strikes me as barely being any different between telling her I talked you into it, and telling me to talk you into it.  After all, existentially—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hibbs said, paddle-wheeling his hands.  “Get to the convincing.  Chop-chop.”

“Hmmm.  Well, I do have to say, I wasn’t really interested in City of Heroes until I started seeing the characters players were making.  I was sure that would be deadly dull until I saw a picture of the Ambiguously Gay Duo.  And that kinda edged the game quietly into the want zone.”

“Why?”  Hibbs asked, sitting down.  “Because you’re ambiguously gay?”

“No, no.  Because what’s a good game about superheroes going to give you that reading superhero comics can’t?”

Hibbs thought, then pointed at me.  “Dammit, that’s what I’m asking you!”

“It’s a rhetorical question, Bri.  See, I don’t have any interest in playing a game where I’m punching out dudes with Superman, Spider-Man and Thor.  There’s nothing new there for me because it’s the sort of thing that goes through my mind every time I pick up a comic book.  That, and Jughead naked of course…”  I paused.  “But the idea of beating up bad guys with the Ambiguously Gay Duo, an albino shapeshifter called The Spork, and a guy in a suit called The Middle Manager is great.  The problems with most superhero games is they take themselves too seriously.  City of Heroes has enough flexibility for people to be as silly as they want.”

“Hmm,” Hibbs said.  “So you’d play characters like, I dunno, Stinkfinger?”

“Yeah, Or the Amazing Mr. Fop.  Or the Procrastinator.”

“’The Mighty Procrastinator!’”

“Exactly!”  I held up my hands up, like framing a marquee.  “He’s unstoppable…because he never starts!’”

Hibbs nodded. “So you’d only play joke characters?”

“No, I’d also play the obscure characters.  I mean, how many times have we gotten to play as Batman or Superman or Spider-Man in a video game?  More than a dozen occasions in total.  But the chance to play OMAC?  Or Paladin?  Or Batroc The Leaper? How could you pass up a chance to play as Batroc The Leaper?”

“Hmmm,” Brian said.  “The answer is:  I can’t.”  He stood up.  “You convinced me.”

I looked at the clock.  “With sixteen minutes to spare.  I’m one persuasive bastard, aren’t I?”

Brian rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, nice work, Purple Man.  Just remember to say so when Tzipi calls you later, okay?”

“Why would Tzipi call me later?”

Brian looked at me as he headed out the door and grinned.  “Oh, you’ll find out why, my friend.  You’ll find out why really, really soon.”

CONVERSATION TWO:

The phone rang at three in the morning, and the shock of it bounced me from my bed.  “Hello?” I said.  “Who is it?”  Then, after the phone rang again, I answered it.  “Hello, Jughead?”  I said into the phone.  “ I was just talking about you to Moose and Mr. Weatherby.”

“Jeff?” It was Tzipi’s distinctive accent.  “What have you done to Brian?”

“Wait, what time is it?”

“Exactly my point.  It’s three in the morning and Brian still hasn’t come to bed yet.  He’s locked himself in his study, and whenever I call to him, he says it’s your fault.”

“What’s my fault?”

“His locking himself in his room for hours to play that Heroes game.  Jeff, do you know how much free time Brian has, when he’s not taking care of Ben, running the store, or sleeping?”

“No, I—”

“Eleven minutes, Jeff.  I timed it out one day.  Well, actually two different days to make sure it was accurate.  And I was going to do it a third and fourth time with different stopwatches to make sure of the accuracy, but then the second stopwatch—yeah but anyway:  eleven minutes.  Why would you make him get a time-wasting video game when he has no time to waste.”

I rubbed his eyes.  “Hold on.  I didn’t make him.”

“Well, that’s what he keeps telling me. ‘Oh, Jeff made me buy the video game.’  ‘Lester told me to lock the door.’ ‘I’d like to keep talking to you, but I’ve been advised by Jeff Lester to go back to playing my video game.’  It’ s very crazy-making.  So I need you to explain it to me.”

I looked out my window at conspiring street lights.  “Uh,” I said.  “See, Batroc the Leaper—”

“What’s that?” Tzipi said sharply.  “It sounds like you are talking gibberish at me.  What did you say?”

“Ummm, okay.  Let’s look at it like this. You’ve been married to Brian for a long time, right?”

“Yes, almost twenty years now.  Well, very soon but we say it’s been twenty years.”

“And have you ever been able to make Brian do anything he didn’t want to do?”

She made a disgusted noise.  “Are you kidding me?  He’s so stubborn!  He’s like some kind of pit bull or something…”

“So, if you can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, why do you think I can?”

“Hmmm.  Well, that’s part of why I was calling, you know.  I just couldn’t figure out how you got him to do something.”

“You weren’t calling because you were upset he was still playing video games at three in the morning?”

“Well, I’ll be pretty upset when he drops dead, yes, but mainly I really wanted to know your secret:  How did you get Brian to do something?”

“And now you know the answer?”

There was a pause.  “Yes, I get it now.  Brian is actually playing this game because he wants to.  That’s very clever of him, using you as the excuse.  Last time, he blamed it on a chair or a table, some piece of furniture, and I saw through that pretty quickly.  But saying another person convinced Brian Hibbs of something…”

“It does sound kind of silly when you say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

“Jeff, I’m so sorry to have bothered you.  I’m just going to go downstairs and pull the circuit breakers.  Once there’s no power, he’ll probably get bored and come to bed.”

“Uh, doesn’t that seem a bit extreme, Tzipi?  To say nothing of that could cause permanent damage to his computer…”

“No worries, no worries.  I’ll just tell him you told me to.  Okay, Jeff.  Good night!”

CONVERSATION THREE:

Days later, I hadn’t heard from either Brian or Tzipi.  Had the ploy worked?  Was Brian dead?  Would I get blamed?  I decided to call and find out.

The phone rang twice, and then an unfamiliar pleasant voice spoke.  “Hello.”

“Hello?”

“Hello.”  It wasn’t Brian’s voice, nor was it Tzipi’s.  But it sounded familiar.  Had they gotten Stephen Hawking as an au pair?

“Uh, hello.” I said.  “Dr. Hawking?”

“No,” the voice said.  “This-is-Ben.”

“Ben?  You’re not old enough to talk yet!”

“That-is-why-I-converted-my-Speak-and-Spell.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

After a minute, Ben said, “I’m-a-good-boy.”

“Yes, you are, Ben. You’re a very good boy.”

“I-just-beat-Neverwinter-again. With-a-low-dexterity-monk.”

“Wow, Ben.  That’s great.”

“It-was-my-second time.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I-played-blindfolded.”

“Uh…”

“Have-you-finished-yet?”

“Say, Ben, is your, uh, dad around?”

“I’m-a-good-boy.”

“I’ll say you are.  But I need to talk to your Dad, so…”

“Why?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to him.”

“Why?”

“Well, I was curious about his video game…”

“Why?”

“Well, I was kind of thinking about buying it.”

“Why?”

“Well, after all those talks about superhero games and lame superheroes, at first, I was initially very curious as to whether Hibbs liked the game.  Then, I kept thinking about it.  And thinking about it.”

“Why?”

“Okay, aren’t you a little too young to pull that ‘but why?’ gambit?”

There was a pause and I heard Ben breathing through his mouth.  “I’m-a-good-boy.”

“Yes, Ben.  Yes, you are.”

“I-am-playing-with-worms.”

“Uh, well, don’t put them in your mouth, Ben.  I know that’s kind of a rough concept for anyone less than a year old, but—”

“No. I-am-exploiting-a-security-weakness-in-Microsoft-Explorer-that-will-allow-my-worm-to-copy-itself-into-Microsoft-Outlook. It-is-called-I’m-a-good-boy.exe.”

“Uhhhh… Ben, where are your mom and dad?”

“Daddy-is-sleeping.  Mommy-is-sleeping.  I-am-using-my-bouncer-to-power-the house.”

“Ben, I don’t think releasing a computer worm is a very good use of your time.”

“But-I’m-a-good-boy.”

“Yes, Ben, you are.  But I’m thinking this is the real reason why games like City of Heroes exists.  To keep wildly intelligent and easily bored men and women from messing too much with the status quo.  I originally thought that was a bad thing, but now I think it’s a good thing.”

“It’s-a-good-thing?”

“Yes, Ben.  In fact, now that Brian’s asleep, why don’t you go make yourself some superheroes?”

There was a long pause, and I heard the creaking of the springs in Ben’s bouncer as he jumped up and down, powering the house.  “Maybe-I-will.”

I sighed.  “That’s great, Ben.  So you won’t release the worm, right?”

“I-don’t-know.  Maybe-I-will-later. Maybe-I’ll-play-a-game-now.  But-do-not-worry, Jeff. If-I-do-release-the-virus, I’ll-just-tell-them-you-told-me to.”

“No, Ben, wait.”

:”Okay, bye-bye,” Ben said and hung up the phone.

And that is how Ben Hibbs talked me into buying City of Heroes.  If you think about it, it’s really not my fault.