Page 324 of Untouchable

There's an exaggerated scream as the game begins with a cut scene, setting up the story. There's a man in modern clothes in the courtyard of a ruined castle. He sees something in the distance and—

Gil puts up his gun and there's a loud booming and the same scream sound effect plays as the camera angle shifts to let them know they're playing the game.

"Hey, how am I supposed to get invested in the story now?" Harp asks, only half-joking.

"Oh my God, Harp, we don't have all night," Gil says. He's taking aim at the screen.

"I don't even know who these guys are now," Harp protests.

"Hey—I'm gonna die if you don't—"

Shit, oh yeah. Playing a video game. Right.Harp raises his pink plastic weapon as a zombie lurches at the screen.

“No, Harp, you have to—“ Parker calls. “You’re pressing the wrong button. Nope—other one—there we go.” Parker cheers as the zombie explodes into a pixelated confetti of blood and internal organs. “There, you’ve got it.”

“Okay that’s not too bad—“

“There’s another one—“ Gil says, his brow furrowed in concentration as he expertly takes out another zombie creeping towards them.

* * *

Parker can’t help laughingat the sight of Harp, holding a pink plastic gun, frowning at the screen like he’s trying to attempt open heart surgery instead of killing a few zombies.

“You’re overthinking it, babe,” Parker calls. “Just aim and—right there—no, to the right—“

"Hey, I need some backup over here," Gil says to the left, elbowing Harp neatly in the ribs.

"Ow, hey, Jesus," Harp says, rubbing his side.

"No, don't—" Parker says—but it's already too late. Zombies and rats swarm Gil's avatar and his half of the screen goes blood red and begins a countdown.

"Ah, shit, sorry," Harp begins.

"Harp, no—you have to—"

"The game keeps going moron," Gil says, stooping and fumbling for quarters so that he can keep playing before the timer runs out. "Look at the screen, not at me! Shoot!"

“Oh my god—Harp—“ Parker groans, laughing. “Aren’t you into all that rugged individualist, mountain man kind of stuff? You were born to survive a post apocalyptic wasteland—“

Except maybe not, because a zombie shambles towards them and it takes Gil reaching over to aim the pink gun for Harp to get it killed.

“You are hopeless,” Gil says.

“You... are a little rusty,” Parker says gently, trying to bite back a smile.

Gil "dies" two more times trying to save Harp's character before Gil finally throws his arms up in the air.

"This is useless. I'm totally betrayed. My whole zombie apocalypse plan was to come to stupid Storm Mountain. Now where am I supposed to go? Huh, Harp?"

"Well, really,” Harp says seriously, “the valley where our cabin is would be terrible in terms of defense. What you'd want to look for is—"

"Okay, cool lecture," Gil interrupts. "Give me the gun."

Harp grins and pushes it into his outstretched hand.

"Parker," Gil says, not turning around but holding the gun out as Harp steps away. "Please for Christ’s sake tell me that you're more proficient at killing zombies than my brother. Otherwise he'll never stand a chance."

Parker laughs and doesn't know if this is a request to come play. When he doesn't immediately get up, Gil turns around with an exasperated look on his face.

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