I recently moved into my dorm room, starting as a sophomore in college, and a friend gave

me his old Nintendo 64 to play.

I was stoked to say the least, I could finally play all those old games from my youth that

I hadn't touched in at least a decade.

His Nintendo 64 came with one yellow controller, and a rather shoddy copy of Super Smash Brothers.

And while beggars can't be choosers, needless to say, it didn't take long until I became

bored of beating the level 9 CPUs.

That weekend, I decided to drive around a few neighborhoods about 20 minutes or so off

campus, hitting up the local garage sales, hoping to score some good deals from ignorant

parents.

I ended up picking up a copy of Pokemon Stadium, Golden Eye, F0, and two other controllers

for $20, satisfied, I began to drive out of the neighborhood when the last house caught

my attention.

I still have no idea why it did.

There were no cars there, and only one table was set up with a random junk on it.

But something sort of drew me there.

I usually trust my gut on these things, so I got out of the car, and I was greeted by

an old man.

His outward appearance was, for lack of a better word, displeasing.

It was odd.

If he asked me to tell you why I thought he was displeasing, I couldn't really pinpoint

anything.

...