you’re sat on the couch inside, jj sitting beside you with a white knuckle grip on the wii controller steering wheel. he’s leaned forward, elbows on his knees in the most intense focus you’ve ever seen him in. they’re split screened, jj on the left and john b on the right, perfectly mirroring where they’re sitting on the couch. the ever so reliable john b chooses classic mario, and jj sticks to his routine choice, yoshi.

everyone’s eyes are glued to the tv screen, kiara leaning on the side of the couch, biting her nails anxiously, sarah sitting on the floor between john b’s legs, and pope sprawled across the leather armchair.

the boys are on their third lap, and it’s clear the competition is getting heated just looking at them. the first two laps were filled with shit talking and all around bad sportsmanship, but now they’re silent. neck and neck, they crash through the final round of item boxes, and the air stills as their respective power-ups shuffle.

“c’mon, c’mon.. big money..” jj mutters biting his lip. you’re enthralled, one hand resting supportively on his shoulder. with john b just a few paces in front of him, jj’s first power up loads as a red shell, and he immediately shoots it at john b. it hits him dead on, a cinematic slow-mo of mario’s go-kart sputtering to an explosive stop capturing the chaos of the room perfectly. jj springs to his feet, yoshi flying past john b’s defeated mario and through the finish line like a bullet.