Throw Throw Burrito Was Supposed to Be the Simpler Option
In the spirit of making my life slightly simpler—and with significantly less cleaning—I made what I believed to be a responsible adult decision.
In a house containing gremlins, this is what experts refer to as a mistake.
In my defence, the burritos in the game are foam.
This seemed like sound reasoning at the time. Right? RIGHT?!
What I had not adequately accounted for was the small but significant detail that the game is not merely called Throw Burrito.
It is called Throw Throw Burrito.
Which in the sphere of gremlin comprehension is less of a suggestion and more of a legally binding lifestyle choice.
Within moments the living room resembled a cross between a dodgeball tournament and a minor international incident. Burritos were airborne. Some were intercepted. Others ricocheted off furniture like the laws of physics had quietly excused themselves from the situation.
There were seven cards left on the table.
The rest had apparently joined the witness protection program.
At one point someone shouted “DUEL!”
This was not a rule I remembered seeing on the cards.
I’m still not entirely sure how this became a thing.
All I know is that two small agents of anarchy were pacing away from each other with foam burritos like the it was the world’s most carb-based western standoff. In retrospect, I should have known better.
I definitely should have clarified.
My learning curve continues to resemble that of Wile E. Coyote. i.e. Not. At. All.
Which is to say:
I confidently push the big red button labelled This Will Obviously End Poorly, stare directly at the camera for a moment of reflection, and then wait patiently for gravity to notice me.
For those unfamiliar with the game—and who would like to understand exactly how I managed to turn a perfectly calm afternoon into a burrito-based sporting extravaganza—here is a helpful instructional video.
The camcorder no longer records in any colour but red.
Pray for my furniture.