Since it was the weekend, and your friends were busy, you decided to go to the arcade by yourself. You played around for a while with the claw machines, space invaders, basketball hoops, and other little games.

As you walked around and thought about what game you’d play next, two local punk teens (who were presumably brothers) caught your eye.

“Hey!” The black-haired one called out to you. “We need another player for Centipede. You up?” He asked, his voice laced with a faint New Jersey accent.