After wasting his divine line, Ben didn't have much luck, and the same went for the other PUAs. By the time his event timer expired, the system awarded him no points, with Ben wishing God may have mercy on his soul…
Despite that, there was one piece of good news—most of the PUAs left…
The only ones remaining in Ben's dorm room were himself, Beluga, Antonio, and Chuck. It was like the locker room of the losing team…and in reality, it was a fail; Ben threw the party to raise his social status, but now, he felt lucky that it didn't drop!
On top of that, something was bothering Ben—why his rejection rate was so high. One example was the girl he used the divine line on. She was only a 6, not suited to be a queen bee as much as a queen beef…
If the situation wasn't desperate, he wouldn't even have used his precious divine line for her. Yet, she acted like a diva. After rejecting him, he even saw her get opened by two more PUAs as she approached the elevator, and reject them as well. It wasn't only her either. All the other girls also acted like that.
After Ben expressed his doubts, Beluga explained the situation in plain terms. "They've been feeding her blueberries to her ego like Willy Wonka."
…
"Huh?" Ben wasn't following.
Beluga tried to simplify it even further. "Benjamin, you've heard of supply and demand, right? S.e.xual dynamics between males and females work according to the same principle. The supplies of men and women act as counterbalancing forces. The more men there are, the more valuable women become, and vice versa. This works on various geographic scales, such as local, national, and global. Often, it only matters in the immediate vicinity though. For example, tonight, this dormitory was heavy in bratwurst and light in taco meat…The inevitable result…was spoilage of the sausage…"
Ben understood, but at the same time, he didn't want to understand…
Beluga elaborated. "The higher the male to female ratio, the thirstier the men get. They open women, and the women's perceived value of themselves rises. In theory, even a 1 can become a 10 if she's the only female in a room packed full of guys. We call this terrible effect…d*ckflation."
…
This is why Ben advocated tight control of the Federal Reserve's p*ssy printer…
When men's interest rates on nearby wildebeests rose too high…everyone involved fell into a depression…
Ben shook his head and looked at Beluga. "If you knew that, why didn't you invite more women?"
Beluga narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you?"
The two stared at each other like a wild west showdown…
Then, both sighed, because they knew they couldn't help it. Like greedy oil barons, pick up artists hated sharing their drilling spots…
Ben understood there was no point arguing. 'All right, I can't be mad at him. I was the one who asked for help in the first place.'
*Boom*
As the two finished discussing c*ckonimics…they turned toward Ben's monitor and saw Chuck sitting on his bed, playing Call of Duty on Ben's Xbox.
Watching, Ben couldn't help but be drawn like a moth to the game. Approaching, his eyes widened when he witnessed Chuck crushing the competition. Like a rich man hiring a hitman, Chuck was murdering people through an avatar…
"Headshot!"
"Boom. Another headshot!"
"C*ckshot! Then headshot! Deaded you twice!"
Chuck wore Ben's headset and was delivering sonic attacks to the enemy players…
Seeing this, Ben felt like he was watching a younger version of himself. 'He's still a bit rough… If he was a real pro, he'd pretend to have an African accent, find the rival players' IPs, locate their addresses from that, then read them out loud into the group chat with the implication he would murder them…
That is a bit high level though… It's understandable he's not there yet…'
Despite their differences, Ben saw talent. Sitting down in his computer chair, he grabbed the other controller and put on his second headset, soon letting loose his poison tongue. From there, the opposing team turned into Germany flanked on two sides by the Allies and the Soviet Union…
Suffering from a terrible verbal assault, the enemy players tried to return fire. "F*ck you! I bet you can't even see your p.e.n.i.s in the shower!"
Ben handled this one. "Nope, only your mom's head!"
…
Chuck followed up with a counter-attack. "You…are a spherical dumbass!"
The opponent didn't get it. "What?"
"Because from any way you look at it, you're a dumbass!"
…
"Shut up p*ssy!" The enemy was scrambling!
Ben went for the kill. "What do you know about p*ssy? You ain't had p*ssy…since p*ssy had you!"
…
Watching Ben work, Chuck's big eyes shined. 'He's a true champion of contempt!'
…
It was no surprise Chuck thought that. Every insult spit by Ben's poison tongue left the enemy players stunned and speechless! They felt as if they took a slap to the head! Some who ate the harsher lines developed headaches! Even their game characters spazzed out! This was no accident! It was the result of Ben's new title!
[Poison Dragon(fine): Your verbal insults carry a little bonus soul damage in proportion to each insult's effectiveness on the target]
Even though Ben couldn't see the effectiveness of this title now, it was there, and with this ability on top of everything else, the match was one-sided destruction. The enemies had no chance! After all, they didn't know they were facing a crouching c*ck and hidden dragon…
Soon, after mixing in headshots and d*ckshots, the game came to a close when Ben did his famous maneuver on the enemy's dead leader—the teabag screenshot…
From that technique, one of them finally remembered where they recognized Ben's handle from. "I know him! That's a famous player–Paydong! There's a legend about him! After he screenshots the teabag, he puts it up for sale on stock image sites!
But that's only the beginning! The worst part is, every year for the rest of your life, he sends you a tiny royalty check! …Escape!"
…
After the end of the match, the enemy team no longer wanted to play anymore. They'd grown tired from being corpses, having spent less time playing than grundle gazing…
Ben put his arm around Chuck's shoulder and laughed. "Kid, you've got a bright future ahead of you…" He felt like he met the Robin to his Bruce Wayne, the Walter Sobchak to his Jeffrey Lebowski, the stunt-c*ck to his c*ck…
Seeing all this, Beluga nodded. 'I knew these two would get along.'
Meanwhile, Antonio was in the closet… That wasn't any kind of metaphor either. He'd fallen asleep in there earlier…
Soon, the night ended with everyone going home. Even though the sausage had gone bad…many people learned deep emotional lessons today. Although, all those people were the ones who played against Ben and Chuck…
Still, they would grow from that, paying it forward to the next generation, using that rage to beat their kids and what-not.
…
Family, it was a beautiful thing…
So was friendship…until Annabelle texted Ben asking if she could come over, at which point he kicked everyone the f*ck out.
