Hit #002: AdSenseless

One of our favorite webcomics is that of Dr. McNinja. Ninjas. A doctor, who is Irish. That's enough awesome there to end this post, but I won't.

In any case, the owners decided to create a new form of advertisement at the bottom right corner of their comic pages. It looks like so:



The ads are in what is called an infinite auction. That is to say - if your bid is the highest, it will stay up there indefinitely, and is only overruled by another, higher bidder.

Pooro did not require indefinite; only long enough for me to see this:



The link would resolve to this Photobucket link: Pooro

(Same thing, but bigger, in case you thought it was something different.)

A solid hit. A good beginning.

--Frostfire

Hit #001: ITube, TheyTube, We all Tube for YouTube

Frostfire and myself, being industrious filmmaking types, regularly check out YouTube. To gauge the competition? No, not so much - it's YouTube. Rather, it's more of a "If these people can make it big, we should have no problem" situation.

Cut to the day after the start of our stupid, stupid prank war. I get a message from Frostfire on MSN telling me he found a YouTube video that actually had some merit. Needless to say, my curiosity was piqued. He linked me to the following video:



I was forced to mutter the official acknowledgement of an indisputably solid tag - "Goddammit."

What Is This?

This is a prank-game that should not exist. There is no good reason for it to, yet it exists all the same.

The rules are thus: Two players (Poorochondriac, Frostfire 2112) must find new ways for their opponent to be caught off-guard with receiving the message of "(name) would like to chat."

If successful, this is known as a hit. It is the equivalent of a tag, from the game "Tag."

Once a hit has been done, it cannot be redone. There are ways of twisting it, but it must be so ingenious to have taken the same amount of creativity to create the original hit.

That's it.

We told you, this game has no reason to exist. But it does. And it's game on.

Myth of the Origin

In the morn of January, 2007, a war begun.

Two young men - intelligent, ambitious, capable of going outside for extended periods of time - played the epic Epic title Gears of War as a means of relaxation between sessions of scriptwriting and film planning.

They knew not then the chaos that would ensue at their behest.

By chance, a simple miscommunication, and the two ended in different games. The younger of the pair, and most impatient, "Frostfire 2112," decided to initiate a private chat to find one another and play another round of "Beers 'n' Gears." The other, "Poorochondriac," had already begun. It was a ranked game; leaving was not an option.

Frostfire did not know this. He hit the page button. "Page sent to Poorochondriac."

On Poorochondriac's screen, the words: "Frostfire 2112 would like to chat." It was a shot off the bow; neither knew it at the time.

No answer came. Frostfire realized that the page was not a singular thing, that he could hit page many times and have it continue to appear on the receipient's screen.

He tapped the Y-button. Over and over.

In response, Poorochondriac initiated a different private chat, and began paging back himself. A competition ensued, friendly, funny. Neither would give up.

All at once, silence from Poorochondriac. Had he given in? Frostfire waited. His cell phone buzzed; it was a text message. Perhaps a girl? He opened his phone.

Poorochondriac would like to chat.

The competition had turned into a war.