With the inordinately small amount of time that I actually have for gaming these days what with… oh… this site, you’d be forgiven for thinking that I would, unquestionably, make the most of that time whenever the occasion for gaming decided to present itself.  In some cases, perhaps, but lately I’ve been doing exactly the opposite… I’ve been squandering my time on ridiculous antics, throwaway nonsense and obsessive collections.  And having an obscene amount of fun in the process, I might add.

My foray into endless hours of larking around probably started when I found myself joining friends in multiplayer Burnout Paradise sessions.  At first there was a means to an end, in the shape of achievements, where we’d play through a series of challenges to ensure that each person managed to pick up the various multiplayer achievements for their gamercard.  I had no interest in the random *plink plonk* sounds but was more than willing to help others out as it was, after all, a damn good way to spend time.  What invariably happened, as you’d expect, is that certain people would drop out if they had other plans arranged or remembered that their front door DID, in fact, open and that there WAS, as legend told, life beyond the letterbox.  Before long, the buzz and atmosphere of the huge multiplayer had dwindled down to the last few stragglers… and that’s when the nonsense began!  Gone were the races from point A to point B or the objectives to smash through a particular number of billboards before the time ran out and, in their place, spewed forth utter carnage in the shape of consistent take downs and high speed chases where each player was hell bent on nothing more than smashing the crap out of the car in front or, if you’re an evil master of the E-Brake turn, the car behind.

This continued on through to the latest DLC, Paradise Island, where we could happily spend hours chatting  away over the headsets in between profanity-filled gasps of deflation because we still may have been that ONE degree shy of breaking our own flat spin record or landing on the roof instead of managing to successfully land that sixth barrel roll.  Some evenings we may never even see the other players as we’d be scattered around the map trying to set a personal record in the location that best suited that particular type of stunt, and other times we’d watch each other and offer sympathy or taunts as, one by one, each attempt turned out to be a glorious failure.  While it may not have been the most productive way to spend an evening, the sight of your friend tearing up the Ski Jump in Paradise Island and pulling off a 1200+ degree flat spin as you sit below is a great way to pass the time… especially if they land on you for a vertical take down.

Borderlands was when I next allowed myself to be dragged kicking and screaming in to the social world of online gaming but, as you’d expect with a game such as Borderlands, it was more about team work in order to get through each mission unscathed and with greater reward than if it had been played in single player mode.  We soldiered on, did what was asked of us, picked up the rewards and accepted that we’d reached an acceptable point to call it quits for the night and go off on our separate ways… which rarely happened.

Instead, as anyone who happened to join in on the festivities can testify, the “goodbyes” dragged on longer than a 17 year old girl at a frat party and turned into raging duels which tended to have their own sets of rules such as only using fisticuffs, pistols only, jumping up and down whilst randomly shooting or my personal favourite… spinning around in a circle with the finger held firmly to the trigger, hoping that you’ll eventually hit the opponent.  The most time consuming, however, was when we decided to position ourselves behind rocks and take each other out using ONLY the ricochet from our weapons.  Two hours well spent that night, I can tell you.  Pete won.

One of my greatest memories from these sessions is one where myself and two others were standing by a Catch-A-Ride vehicle spawn station by The Outeryard and one player (we’ll call him, oh…  Preacher), who would only have been around level 19 or 20 at the time against our level 50+ characters, mistakenly meléed the other (known as Pete for the purposes of this article) which started the duel request.  Realising immediately what had just happened, his first instinct was to run like hell before Pete could catch up with him and accept the duel request as it would mean certain death going up against a character who was not only infinitely stronger and a seasoned veteran, but also had an arsenal of high stat orange weapons against his… well… his pea shooters.  The sight before me was two Hunters running as fast as possible across the entire landscape of Rust Commons West, one fleeing for their life and the other in hot pursuit.  To say that it resembled one of those ridiculous sketches at the end of a typical Benny Hill episode would be a gross understatement.  It may have lasted no more than five minutes, but it’s a gaming memory that I’ll never forget and one that I wish had been caught on video.

Another whimsical adventure which WAS caught on video was the latest free roam session of Red Dead Redemption.  As with all other multiplayer sessions, the evening started off in a relatively calm manner with three players taking out various unsavoury elements by whatever means available, in the shortest possible time.  We then moved on to an actual multiplayer challenge which we finally completed after three failed attempts thanks to my getting disconnected during the first attempt (love you WiFi, thaaaanks!), Preacher actually stealing the piggin’ Gold Coach in the second attempt and perhaps a really teeny tiny slim chance that I actually blew both Preacher and Iain up in the third attempt using the cannons on the ridge while they edged their way towards the guys with the Gatling guns.  When did cowboys ever have Gatling guns anyway!?  They had six shooters, saddle sores and tin baths.

With the challenge completed, a decision had to be made as to what was being done next.  While they pondered that thought I, in my typical nonchalant manner, found myself running around the walled settlement in a neverending loop until I suddenly realised that the other two had vanished.  As I stopped to look around for them I was smacked on the back of the head by Iain and, as it turns out, both he and Preacher had decided to follow me and had been running around in circles behind for quite some time as I carried on oblivious.  This resulted in a three way brawl with each of us running in tight circles around each other, trying to throw a head punch as often as possible and, for the next ten or fifteen minutes, punching was the order of the day.  Shortly thereafter, we were back in free roam mode and placed in an area which had several towers… handy for sniping.  Unfortunately, Iain decided that he owned the towers and if you made any such attempt to climb the ladders to the top of said towers… you’d end up being shot in the head.  The next thirty or forty minutes consisted of nothing more than three grown men laughing like little girls seeing man bits for the first time as, one by one, we attempted to at least reach the ladders and make our way to the top.  Sometimes we’d get half way up, other times we’d not even reach the tower in the first place but, more often than not, we’d see Iain standing proud atop a tower… looking down his scope ready to take one of us out.  At one point I rejoiced as I reached the top of the ladders, ready to crown myself “King Of The Worrrrrrld” when a crisp “swish” cut through the tense laughter and I saw Iain standing above me at the top of the ladder as I fell back towards the ground with a knife firmly embedded in my head.

I never made it to the top.  I eventually committed suicide.  Water IS lethal in the Wild West, after all.

Last five articles by Mark R

• From Acorns to Fish
• Alone In The Dark
• Why Borderlands is Better Than Borderlands 2
• Falling Short
• The Division: A Guide to Surviving the Dark Zone Solo