"GAME KID SULKS! GAME KID IS A LOSER! GAME KID FU...." But it was too late for the triumvirate of terrors as they were once again kicked by Bilbo the house bot.

"And don't call me babe. In fact, if you don't beat me this time, you can consider yourself banned for life from any channel I have ops on. And I mean it. Beat me or die!" GK felt that somehow, this time, his cyber-vixen had a point.

His tactic of letting her defeat him every time, often within seconds of starting a game, hadn't paid off. The advice he'd been given by certain 'mates' on a certain e-zine was failing him. The advice went something like: "Girls love to be dominant. Try being the sensitive type. Try listening. Then try to fu..." But it was too late; the advice was already disappearing from his now over-anxious mind.

"Well my sweat... erm, sweet, I reckon a right good dose of pixellated-pain will turn you into putty in me mitts. Let's get to it before I go off the idea and get on with some writing. Where and when?" Forceful, dismissive, debonair, he sat almost straight in his recliner, the dribble - like blood from a wound - falling from the corner of his mouth, down his chin and into his belly button, around which he'd drawn a target for just such a purpose.

"Same place as always. And, erm, now you prat."

An hour passes...

Another hour passes...

Another hour passes... (Now might be a good time to register for the Future Gamer daily and maybe write a pithy email to the Editor for Feedback...)

Another hour passes...

Five hours later, a lonely Game Kid sat staring into the singularity that was his life. He was back on #pontificate but there was no one else.

True, GK is now an Op, but there is no Bilbo-bot, no Maven_Girl and no one else to share his victory.