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No one came to game night. As Meeple should’ve probably expected. But that didn’t stop them from feeling immensely disappointed. And sad. And angry. All emotions that he felt often, but still threatened to make him cry every time.
They’d waited for ten minutes before frantically texting all of their friends, expecting… something, at least. His friends could’ve just forgotten! As usual, some responded with cheap excuses but most just ignored them. Everyone was always so cruel to Meeple. He didn’t know what he’d done. Maybe they’d killed all of the population’s grandmas while sleepwalking or something.
His vision blurred with tears, which somewhat complicated pleading over text to an annoyed Larry. He always answered, but still seemed to not want Meeple around. One more thing he didn’t understand. They questioned whether they truly were as smart as everyone thought they were.
Meeple: Please
Meeple: You can both come
Meeple: The mroe the merrier
Meeple: Please??!
Meeple: ???
I’m sorry for being so weird and annoying I’ll st
His doorbell rang. Huh. Weird. The only thing it could be was someone playing doorbell ditch. Fantastic. Just what he needed. Being the victim of countless annoying pranks was another part of the punishment for the devastation they’d apparently unknowingly caused.
He turned his phone off and got up from the couch in which he’d been sulking. They didn’t even bother to wipe their tears, which came back as they opened the door, ready to close it again at seeing nobody there. But… There was somebody there.
“Hi, Meeple! Oh my gosh, I’m sorry for being so late, I rushed here when I saw your message. So so–” your gaze seemed to fall upon his face for the first time, making you stop talking in shock. “Have you been crying? Are you okay?!”
They were absolutely mortified. So mortified he didn’t answer for a good ten seconds. They quickly wiped their tears and regained composure.
“You’re late. But whatever. I guess it’s fine since it’s the first time. Come in,” he secretly felt very happy that someone had actually come to play with him, but of course he wouldn’t show it. They were too mature to have these emotions, they’d learned a long time ago. “You’re lucky I’m letting you in, really. You should be grateful. You’ve embarrassed me greatly, yet the Mighty Meeple will allow you to play with him. Are– Am I just not the kindest person ever?”
“Of course. I look forward to such an honor,” you say with a small chuckle.
You hadn’t laughed at them. Had you? Sure, you’d chuckled, but it did not seem malicious. Meeple felt… weird. And excited, too. That weird energy that ran through his body, waiting to be released any way they could. It was not a good time for that. There were people around! Okay. Focus, Meeple.
“Since I’m feeling so compassionate, I’ll allow you the privilege to pick the game we will play tonight. And next time, which there will be a next time, I will choose. Understood?”
You slowly nodded. Perfect! He started explaining the basics of every game he owned so you could make an informed decision. How they loved talking about their games. So much so he forgot everything— how to properly talk to a person, the fact that he’s not supposed to do this, and the fact that he’s talking to a person in the first place—, he’s just so absorbed by his board game rant.
“I think we can just play Uno,” you cut him off, which they did not appreciate. But also did because, let's face it, he would've embarrassed himself further had he continued.
“A classic, yes. Respect. Or maybe it's just you don't know any other game,” they laughed, hoping you would pick up they were joking. Nobody seemed to be able to tell when he was joking. “But I'll have you know, no house rules allowed,” they quickly stopped themselves from ranting. No more talking tonight.
The game went… Rather horribly. You’d somehow managed to win. Despite the way he’d rigged the deck and slipped cards into his sleeve and manipulated the rules to suit him. Rage burned inside them. How could you? No, Meeple should’ve won! What good was he if he couldn’t win at the only thing he liked, the only thing he was good at?
“CHEATER!” they yelled, loudly getting up from their chair. He saw you flinch at all the noise, but they didn’t care. You deserved it. You’d humiliated him. “I can’t believe this! You– You’re a filthy cheater!”
“I– I didn’t cheat!” you tried to defend yourself. You seemed genuinely upset by the accusation.
“Get out!”
You did as they asked, quickly picking up your things and leaving without a word.
Good. Meeple hated cheaters.