Wednesday, March 08, 2006

An Urgent Plea

If you are the Fed Ex driver on my route, and you read this column, thank you for getting your ass over to my house right away and delivering my copy of Ghost Recon: Advanced Warfighter.

I mean it, mister. I've got the serious urges going for this game. Forget those important overnight business documents, break off your route, and get over here.

Last night Gloria asked me about the game, because I've mentioned to her that today I'm going to be locked in my study for a good length of time. "What is this Ghost Recon game about, anyway?" she asked.

"Well, I'm a member of an elite counter-terrorism unit...," I said, at which point she burst out laughing.

"I assume you're hunting the terrorists through corridors and a warehouse with boxes," she said.

"Not now," I said. "Outdoors. Mexico City, baby. This bad boy is going international."

She hasn't stopped laughing at me yet. It's been twelve hours.

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