But today I would show him. Immediately upon entering the shop, I felt the change in atmosphere. There was something new. Something... powerful. Walking over, I saw it on the shelf, its silence speaking volumes about its confidence. A game like this did not even need to speak; it simply was.

I let loose one triumphant "Hah!", then seized the game with such alacrity that I dashed several of the adjacent titles to the floor. The other customers looked up in shock. I held the gaze of each in turn, noticing a growing arousal in my pants. When I was fully inflamed, I sauntered up to the counter and slammed the box down with unnecessary force, cracking it slightly. The till monkey regarded me with new respect, and I could see the thought dawning on his face that here, finally, was a man who knew how to buy a goddamn game.

"Ahh, Bioshock", he said. "Good choice, I've heard it's really-" "I AM NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR OPINION", I said in an assertive tone. "I am here for one thing, and one thing only. And that thing is to buy the living COCK out of this game".

He did not reply to this. What could one say? Instead, he held out his hand in the universal gesture of beckoning. This was my opportunity, and I knew it. Luckily, I had come prepared: there were four notes in my pocket. Each had £10 written on it. They had been brooding there for days, communing in the warm, moist gloom of my crotch area, and when I withdrew them, they unfurled as if craving the sweet touch of the light. The monkey ventured to speak again. "That's £34-"

"I believe you will find this", I said, cutting him off, "sufficient".

The cash bloomed at the end of my pinched fingertips. I would not give it to him. No, I would wait for him to take it. And take it he did. I held the bounty aloft, and his hand crept tentatively towards it, probing. At the last split second, I released my clamp-like grip upon the money, allowing him to wrest it from my hand as gently as a child might wrest a wing from a stunned fly. In this transition lay life and death in microcosm. I had lost some of my life blood, but I had gained something new; something pulsing with wonderment. And that thing was Bioshock.

I leaned towards the Monkey. He gazed at me, awestruck. "Looks like this game..." I said, putting on my National Health Service sunglasses, "...just got bought."

The game lay expectantly in my hands. I could almost feel it thrumming with power. With a mighty "YAAAAAAAAA!" I ran flailing from the shop, pausing only to trip on the door jamb and hurtle to the ground, smashing my glasses and giving myself a nasty nosebleed. And yet I felt nothing. The world could not touch me now. I stumbled shambolically towards the station, the monkey's cries of "your change!" fading in my ears, like the buzzing of a dying wasp.

Artist's interpretation of the events.

On the train home, as I blubbed gobs of snotty blood all over my cardigan, I could not restrain an arrogant smirk at the other passengers. Those mundanes could not possibly know what it was like to transcend; to hold the Totem Of Potency in one's grasp. Tonight would be the most exciting night of my life.

I opened the shit out of my front door, slamming it against the interior wall with extreme force and deepening the already ugly holes in the wallpaper. The house reverberated to my purposefulness. My two remaining plates slid from the sideboard and smashed on the floor. Tonight, I would eat from the bone, as my ancestors had done, thousands of years ago. But my next meal lay far, far in the future. For the next eighteen hours, I would sit hunched in front of my computer; tapping, clicking, and shuddering with beatific pleasure.

And yet, before I could even install Bioshock, there was one more vitally important task to perform.

I needed a shit.

You know me now, and therefore you know that this would be no ordinary shit.

Oh no.

I was about to shit the fuck out of that shit.