we are playing Breath of the Wild

I was nearing the end of a long journey for which I had been woefully underprepared. I had spent the last fifteen minutes skidding down wet rocks in a thunderstorm while being pelted with exploding arrows by snipers concealed in the trees. I had been shot, stabbed, zapped with electricity, knocked flat on my ass, nearly crushed by falling boulders, and generally kicked around. Most of my good weapons were broken, and I was rapidly running out of kebabs.

Then I saw it. An unsuspecting enemy loitering by the edge of a cliff, a little way ahead. The rain and the darkness had turned visibility to shit, so I couldn’t even tell if it was a Lizalfos or a Bokoblin or what, but it was right in my line of sight and it had no idea I was there. Finally, a chance to turn the tables, to change the operational tempo, to take something back. Time to start showing these guys that my patience could only be pushed so far.

I crouched down atop a rock and drew my bow. Silently, I nocked the arrow that would pluck this vile creature from the clifftop as neatly as I’d pick a flower, and send its black soul down to Hell. I drew up, zoomed in. Dead in my sights; the perfect shot. The Hero of Hyrule says hi, motherfucker. I paused.

uA, gently: “That’s a radish.”