Back in the day, you proudly stood with your pinball brethren, arrogantly blaring your 50s midi tunes and yelling at people to move their car. The back seat was smooch central, and the snack bar stayed open all night. People would line up to play you, pumping in coins like it was going out of fashion. You were a king among kings. The good times were rollin, you thought they'd never stop.
Then the rains came.
In a matter of days, you had become worthless. Just one more waterlogged asset to liquidate with the rest. You moved from one damp shed to the next, slowly rotting, rusting, disintegrating. Forever cursed to dream of the good ol days when your parts moved with purpose. When you were an 'amusement' for all the right reasons.
Yet even in the midst of despair, a small fire burned within you. A small flicker of hope that one day you find a big enough idiot who believed that every machine deserved a second chance. Some foolhardy imbecile who didn't understand the task ahead of him. Who didn't appreciate the level of investment required or the basic properties of rust.
This is the story of that idiot.
Then the rains came.
In a matter of days, you had become worthless. Just one more waterlogged asset to liquidate with the rest. You moved from one damp shed to the next, slowly rotting, rusting, disintegrating. Forever cursed to dream of the good ol days when your parts moved with purpose. When you were an 'amusement' for all the right reasons.
Yet even in the midst of despair, a small fire burned within you. A small flicker of hope that one day you find a big enough idiot who believed that every machine deserved a second chance. Some foolhardy imbecile who didn't understand the task ahead of him. Who didn't appreciate the level of investment required or the basic properties of rust.
This is the story of that idiot.
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