I like to shoot people. Not actual people mind you, but their virtual representations. From Unreal Tournament to Halo, I’ve always enjoyed dabbling in the fine art of computer gaming. Perhaps this love stems from a neglected childhood, or maybe I’m just a sick individual. It doesn’t matter either way. What matters is that I enjoy what I do.

But it’s been a long time since I picked up a laser rifle or chucked a grenade. Sometimes responsibilities create themselves without permission. Sure, I play games here and there, but shooting games, my true love, have eluded me. That is, until now.

When I saw the trailer for Call of Duty 4, I couldn’t help myself. I had to own this game. It didn’t matter that my playtime would be short and infrequent. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t even sure if my computer could run the game. What was important was that I could feel the burning flames of desire deep within my… well, you get the point. I was going to play Call of Duty 4, and I was going to do it now.

Or months later. Sometimes it’s so hard to find the time. No matter, I’m here and I’m ready to go. The game is installed and I’m prepared to start taking people down. None of that single player mumbo jumbo, I want blood – real blood. Well, I mean, uh, oh I don’t even know. I just want to start playing and feel that rush of life in my veins.

I’ve booted up the game and am faced with my first challenge: creating a name. I haven’t played in so long, I’ve forgotten what name I played under! I need something that will strike fear into the hearts of my opponents, so they’ll see my name painted on the walls of their dreams. Hopefully in some sort of neon colored paint. They wouldn’t be expecting that. Oh, maybe that stuff that changes color depending on what angle you look at it. That’d be pretty cool.

Alright, focus. Look around, what do you see? There must be something inspirational in this room. Hmm… Old Spice. Old Spice keeps me clean and fresh. Being fresh means I smell good. The ladies like it when I smell good. I know this cute girl that wears contacts. I wear contacts. My contact solution is called ReNu… that’s it! Ladies and gentlemen, meet ReNu, the face of death.

Alright, let’s start this bad boy. Forget options and controls and all that stuff, I just want to play. Join game it is. I’ll just refresh the server list and scroll down a bit and, alright, this one looks good. There’s about 20 players in there already, which should give them pretty good odds as long as they all work together. Now I’m being treated to a picture of a downed helicopter, waiting to join some place called crash. Ha, how literal. Alright, here we go, time to pick my guns. Heavy… is that like tribes? I want to be able to move around somewhat nimbly, so I’ll have none of that. Spec Ops? I don’t think that’s my style. Now Assault, here we go. Give me the rifle and put me in coach, I’m gonna bring the pain!

OK, I’m in game. Oh, I see someone! Steady ReNu, line up the shot and hold down that mouse button and unleash your fury upon the… hey, what the heck is this nonsense? Three bullets? What’s that about? Let me try that again. Three again! Is this thing broken? No matter, it’s just a handicap. Better to give the others a fighting chance anyway. It’s time to make my mark on the world.
Ladies and gentlemen, the first of many to fall before my might:

Good work ReNu, soon your name will be heard shouted from the… hey, someone just stabbed me in the back! Not fair, I was busy gloating! Oh, you’re going to get it now. I’ll track you down you little… oh god my screen is shaking and there are planes flying over head. Dirt is spitting up into the air, bodies are smashing into buildings, reality is crumbling before my eyes, and oh dear lord is that a helicopter I hear? Run everyone, run for the hills! Knock down women and children if you see them! Give the enemy easy targets!