Lately, any spare time I have I’m playing Call of Duty: World at War on the Xbox 360. I beat the single player pretty quickly and have been mostly been playing Team Deathmatch online.
So here’s the thing. As fun as this (or any) game can be, playing online can be both a blast and supremely frustrating. And I have a real tendency to get pretty worked up during intense matches. Usually this is the result of the same type of stuff happening, like dying out of nowhere because someone shot you in the back. Or walking onto a land mine, or totally unloading on a guy and him killing me with one shot.
Oh, and did I mention the dogs? This latest Call of Duty introduced attack dogs that can be summoned after 7 kills in a row (5 gets you an air strike). These dogs run around in packs and are harder than hell to kill, and the second they touch you, you’re dead. Many a death has been the result of my firing all over the place to kill one of these mutts and then having another player stroll up behind me while I’m distracted and pop me in the head. Damn dogs.
So, I tend to get a little verbal in these instances, swearing like Christian Bale on a film set. The exchange in this strip has happened on more than one occasion. I don’t think wives will ever truly understand that games can make us mad as hell and still be an enjoyable experience. Not sure I really understand it myself.
Oh, by the way, my gamertag on XBL is ‘Thundermutt’.