And then he he did it again, and again, and again. YES NO "What the hell is this?" someone asked. "You want to cause as much damage as possible!" Is there anything not fun about causing mass mayhem and destruction? Those little dinging sounds as the dollar amount steadily grew were like the ringing of a slot machine - it made us want to play more and more. We quickly developed a set of rules: one turn per player, and one restart if you didn't like your launch angle off the ramp.
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We also started developing strategies, learning how to get the x4 multiplier and the crashbreaker, plus timing it just right to get that red semi at the tail end to tip over and spill its cargo on the road. Everything was innocent enough at first, but it quickly led to bad places. I started calling my husband in the early evening to tell him I wouldn't be home till very, very late because of the loads of work left to do. There was a lot of work piled up on all of our desks, but none of us was doing it. Instead, we were all sitting on the floor in a cube, passing a controller around and trying to beat the current high score in Crash mode. It wasn't until the third night of deadline that we discovered Road Rage. A mode where the whole goal is to run as many people as possible off the road?!? Yes, please. Our asses stayed glued to the carpet in that cube, passing the controller. My husband started getting suspicious about the late nights, especially when I had to go into the office both days that weekend to catch up on everything I'd been putting off. On Sunday night, he finally cornered me to find out what was going on, and I confessed. "Well you see, there's this new racing game that came into the office." I tried to explain. He wasn't buying it, but I promised him that as soon as we wrapped things up, I'd bring it home so he could see for himself. The next weekend was his birthday, and after we went out to dinner with friends, I hauled out the debug and Burnout 3 disc that I'd snuck out of the office. Our friends weren't gamers at all, but I had become a Burnout 3 zealot, burning to convert everyone over to my side.
I knew they would LOVE this game, and if they didn't, well, then they were just stupid. But since I don't make friends with stupid people, it only took a couple of rounds before they too were believers, feverishly side-swiping the other cars on the road and using up every last millimeter of the boost bar. "It's a hot streak!" we'd all scream in unison with the on-screen text that popped up whenever someone took out three cars in a row.
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Not long after the full game came out, I had to be out of town, so my husband invited his friends over for beer and Burnout. When I got home the next morning he was sound asleep, and when he finally woke up that afternoon, he confessed they'd been up all night playing the game. "Um, we played the same Road Rage course from before." "You spent 10 hours playing the SAME RACE?" I exclaimed.
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