High School Musical 3: Tokyo Drift

The High School Musical Ultimatum

High School Musical’s Army of Darkness

High School Musical After Next

High School Musical and The Last Crusade

High School Musical: Extinction

High School Musical 3: Rise of The Machines

High School Musical 3 – F*ck the title, give us your money.

 

            The following is a formal apology in reference to the conversation you overheard from the break room. While it was not my intention for you to hear about the online exploits I was relaying to my fellow interns, I feel that you may have not gotten the full picture.

            I now realize that, by odd coincidence, it was your thirteen year-old son I happened to play against in Halo 2 last night. I implore you to believe me when I say I had no clue your wonderful boy was a central part of the story when I was recounting it.

            Yes, I will admit that my Xbox live name is M0uthR4pist. However, I believe your son interpreted it wrong when he said it was offensive. It actually is an abbreviation for Mark, Zero Understanding Towards Haters Rallying 4 (for) People Intolerantly Snickering Today. While it may have SEEMED to your astute son that I had proclaimed myself someone who enjoyed forcing oral sex, this is just an unfortunate mishap. I chose the name based upon my distaste for haters rallying for people intolerantly snickering (I suggest you Google this rapidly growing problem), and when your son called me out on my name, I became slightly upset.

            Now, I will admit I did tell him to shut up. The second half of my reply may have been misinterpreted. When I said “Shut up, you lazy-eyed cow fucker”, I meant it in a complimentary sense. In medieval tales, the wisest characters often had a physical disfigurement. I had simply assumed your son was a modern day version of these classic sages. And while it may seem that I insinuated your strapping young man sodomized our bovine friends, I simply was stating that I could tell he had compassion for animals. I attend school in State College, where livestock is highly valued. I am wholly sorry for telling your son to shut up (we all lose control sometimes), but I do believe my other comments were misinterpreted.

            Contrary to your account, I considered my behavior during the rest of the game to be quite appropriate. While it may look like after each time I killed your son’s character I proceeded to participate in an act known as “tea bagging” by repeatedly pressing the crouch button over your son’s characters’ corpse, I was actually kneeling at the body to signify his adept playing ability. I assure you, I was in no way miming the act of dipping one’s scrotum into another’s mouth over and over again.

            Lastly, I feel my comments in the post game lobby were taken in the wrong context. I will openly admit, I remarked “Take that, you Tampon-eating cock biters”, and added “we beat you so bad I might have to come over there and ass-rape the n00b out of you.” But what your son regrettably didn’t hear was the continuation of my discourse, which, of course, was “…Wouldn’t that be a jerk thing to say? Good game you guys, I’d really like to play again in the future. I truly believe we made a connection.”

            So you see, Sir, what you may have interpreted as a demonstration of gross misconduct inappropriate for even inner-city orphans raised by drug dealers and sewer rats is actually a series of coincidentally misinterpreted flukes. I hope we have an understanding that I in no way was insulting you, your esteemed company, or your family.

 

Regards,

 

Mark M

Sales Intern

 

P.S: Please, please for the love of God, don’t fire me. I need this internship more than Ethiopians need food.

 

P.P.S: That last comment was not intended to be offensive in any way, and was merely a public service announcement meant to raise awareness about the suffering of our fellow man abroad.

            The first customer in line is usually a ‘hardcore gamer’. These are your twenty something man-boys that find enough time to make it to all midnight releases of high-profile games, but somehow neglect to budget time for personal hygiene. The pungent body odor of these patrons rarely leaves the memory of EB Games employees, and while they are a reliable source of revenue for the store, many would not miss their business. The hardcore gamer is often at the store multiple times per week, whether it’s to try and score a free tee-shirt, reserve a copy of an upcoming game, or simply loiter and contradict advice given to other customers. While these warriors of console gaming aren’t limited to one genre, they typically prefer to deal “pwnage” on the online landscape with games like World of Warcraft. While their nasally voices are often responsible for inter-customer conflicts and they are the most socially defunct of the store’s clientele, the hardcore gamers often know what they want and are easy to provide services for. After some time of loyally returning to the same location, these customers are eventually referred to as ‘regulars’.

            Up next is the soccer mom. The soccer mom is somewhat of a wild card, because she is usually at the store for one of these three reasons; a) The employees have corrupted her precious little boy by selling him a copy of a ‘Mature’ rated game, b) She is mortified by the lack of any educational games in the store’s inventory, or c) She needs a gift card.

Given the fact that a) It is usually the case that she was told about the game’s rating and wasn’t listening at the time of purchase, and b) The company as a whole doesn’t stock educational games, the cashier hopes to God that she’s here for option c. With the exception of the typically benevolent members of the third option, the soccer mom is most time consuming and stress-inducing source of income the establishment attracts. On the off chance that the mother is there to actually purchase a game, she frequently has no clue what game system her child has or how to pronounce the title. This is a dramatic shift from the hardcore gamer, and frustrations tend to surface for both parties. Thankfully, it typically only takes one in-store tirade for a soccer mom to vow to never come again.

            After the soccer mom leaves with a gift card or yells death threats on her way out the door, the thugs step up to the counter. The thugs, generally traveling as a group, are another headache entirely. While they are an unexpected source of pleasantries and good business, their ghetto-fabulous apparel indicate a myriad of other issues. For instance, it is not uncommon for these consumers to be high when making their purchase, and while they earnestly want to pay for their goods, they lack legal tender, and have forgotten their Debit card pin. On top of that, they take advantage of the company’s trade-in policy. The thugs capable of making transactions often bring in a suspicious duffel bag full of “used” accessories and games that look no more than a day old. EB Games policy dictates that unless it can be proven than the goods are stolen, they must be accepted as bona fide trade-in material. This creates a bizarre dichotomy of friendship and contention between thugs and employees that is similar to the rapport between the cops and mobsters in old movies. When asked where the merchandise was obtained, the reply is more often than not “My friends gave them to me”, accompanied by a sly smirk. After the barely legal transaction is made, the thugs usually leave with their games (always shooters such as Grand Theft Auto) in a timely fashion.

            Next in line are the unaccompanied children. Whether they are there to buy a game or test the employee’s knowledge of the various species of Pokémon, they are not worth one’s time. After they have efficiently destroyed half of the organized displays in the store, they usually find it necessary to see what they can get for a crumpled five dollar bill. While it is amusing for the first two minutes, when these youngsters start to barter and haggle, it is easy to lose one’s patience. The Ritalin-dependent little monsters are authorities of agitation, however, and are not easy to get rid of. If annoying the thugs and debating with the hardcore gamers in line were their appetizers; the cashier is their main course. Unless the interactive gaming stations are unoccupied, it’s up to the employee’s own devices to rid the store of these seemingly parentless offspring. Normally, this situation doesn’t end well, and when the mother or father eventually shows up, it’s to yell at the cashier for ‘terrorizing’ their child.

            At the end of the line is usually a NFL-jersey clad, aging adult male, who makes no effort to try and hide the fact he was still in college. While he could simply pay for the copies of Madden 07, NCAA Basketball, and NFL 2k5 in his hand, he deems it necessary to tell the employee about the “killer party” he was at the previous night, and how he is now ‘mad hung-over’ and has been ‘jonesin’ for some Xbox games’ . If the painful use of exaggerated vernacular isn’t enough, he will often delve into specific anecdotes from the evening before, like “the chick that totally wanted me but she was such a skank, brah”. Somehow this patron doesn’t pick up on the look of growing incredulity in the cashier’s eyes. Nor does he realize that 15 minutes into the story about the flip-cup game that went awry, his games are now being pried out of his beefy grip in an attempt to get him out of the store. While this dated ex-frat boy means well and just wants to pick up some sports games before he has to go back to his 9 to 5 the upcoming Monday, he could be attributed to the resigning of thousands of EB Games employees across the globe. After a few remarks about the ‘fuckin’ bomb game’ he was sold last week and an inquiry about the next Madden tournament the store will be hosting, he is on his way home to his futon made of cases of Natty Ice.

            Sadly, it is this foundation of clientele that makes EB Games a successful retailer. One would think that they are trying to outdo each other in making the employees jobs as hard as possible.  However, the first rule of business is the customer is always right, no matter how utterly wrong that may seem.