The Language of Fighting Games
“That is one fast-ass fat man, dude what the hell, quit that Snake Strike shit. Snake Strike, EX Messiah, Space Opera Symphony. Every time. Every goddamn time. You know how to do anything else?” “Haha why, it works every time on you.” “Naw shut up whatever man, whatever.”
“Yo check this shit out. Roundhouse, fireball, FADC, Ultra. Boom.” “The fuck dude that’s simple as hell.” “No no no like okay the roundhouse makes the fireball hard to break and the fireball combos into the ultra. There’s like…probably a 97% chance this is gonna be in the new game.” “That’s some shit, that’s broken man…”
“Roman cancel, yeaaah okay. This is Street Fighter, get the fuck out with this Guilty Gear Japanese Daigo bullshit like you know things about fightin’ games.”
“I don’t even play this game and I was in like the top ten at Final Round. It wasn’t even a challenge until the quarterfinals. Yeah I dunno, I guess I’m just that good.”
“Yeah, Psycho Crusher? Quit doing that shit. That’s a bad habit and everybody can punish the hell outta that move if it whiffs.”
“I keep tryin’ to get an EX Lariat out and it doesn’t come out, what the hell dude. Your stick is dumb.” “Naw whatever, you’re dumb, sorry you ride the gate like some scrubby Gief…maybe you should just…deal with it.”
“Dude you were lookin’ hype as hell gettin’ ready to fight JWong. You were in the zone and there’s his fat greasy ass lookin’ like he just crawled outta bed or some shit and he still stomped your ass! But naw seriously that’s awesome.”
“Shit man look at this, Ibuki crossing up with an air knife. She has a legit aerial crossup. My mind is blown, dude seriously. Look at that shit! I’m maining the hell out of her when this shit drops.”
“Yea okay Hakan is more pro than you. Look at that shit. Beats the hell out of you up close, baits mid with supers and his ultra—oh shit, his ultra, man—and then oils up at range, and he looks goofy as hell on top’a all that. Anybody that mains him is gonna have so much fun, no lie.”
We were asked to write down natural dialogue for a few weeks in fiction writing, instead of our usual images. This was my longest—and my favorite. Nobody knew what the hell I was saying when I read it, but that just made it funnier.
