Platform: Mobile (did you even read the title?)

Internet connection required, but then again, if you’re reading this, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

Every now and then, you come across a game so addictive that it makes crack cocaine—something I have no experience with—look like cotton candy—which I definitely don’t have any experience with.

Remember when you were young and watched Hunger Games for the first time and thought—“Man, I wish real life was like that. Just kill a few people and get rich, instead of studying and all that boring, mundane stuff.” Well, this game is that thought, except it’s a game.

PUBG drops you onto an island littered with guns and vehicles. The premise is simple: you drop, you get a gun, you shoot a few people, and then gosh darned Samuel with an AWM shoots you from a thousand metres away. “All right,” you think, “I’ll just give it another go.”

So, you pilot a truck, run over a few people, get to the super good guns and you’re finally in the top 10. “Oh boy, I have a good feeling about this!” you think. Of course, just like everything else in your life, you were setting yourself up to fail. It’s Samuel again. He shoots a bullet straight up Mr. Poopy Butth*le as you slowly crawl away on all fours. Your death is infuriating, sad, and humiliating.

But stick with it, and you learn a few things. You get better. Your rank slowly increases. Before you know it, you’re down to one final opponent. I remember the feelings I first got and still get when I near the end of a match. Adrenaline pumps through my body, and my hands shake slightly. I’ve always heard of people’s hands shaking but never actually experienced it, so this was a new experience.

And then Dave shoots you. He was hiding in the bushes while you were having a mind-freak-out, ya dunce.

A mode in PUBG allows you to play with a single (duo) or three (squad) more friends. Now, me being me, the first thing I tried to do when I played this was shoot my ally down. (I think I’ve got a bit of Russian in me.)

When that didn’t work, I took to swatting them with a pan, which though it did damage, did very little of it.

Then came the golden moment. An enemy had knocked down my ally and was crouching next to her. I lobbed a grenade through the window right next to him. Poof went the grenade and oomph went both partner and adversary.

From then on, I stopped caring about winning. All I wanted to do was compromise my own compadres and feed them to the dogs.

Oh, and here’s this, frankly, disturbing video made from clips. Don’t ask me how or why.




~Caitanya Singh Jaswal, Amity International School, Noida



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