Ditz Ditz Revolution

Rory almost didn't recognize her at first glance.

Sure, it had been a while since she had seen Sam, but the woman walking into diner didn't even move the way Rory's old high school friend did. She practically bounced past the empty beige booths with every step, her coat open and proud, revealing a mini-skirt and scoop-necked top that showed off her curvy, tan figure, despite the chilly Wisconsin autumn outside.

"Rory!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms wide as she drew near. "Ohmigod you actually came back!"

Rory fumbled to stand, only getting halfway before Sam embraced her in a tight squeeze. "I missed you so much!" the exuberant hugger squealed.

"Eh, I uh, missed you too," Rory managed to sputter as her friend released her.

"This is so, so exciting," Sam giggled, taking a seat. "You're working in Chicago now, right? What's life in the big city like?"

"Er, it was good," Rory paused, brushing a strand of her long red hair behind her ear. "But, you know. Busy. And difficult."

"Wait, 'was?'" Sam repeated, frowning with concern. "What do you mean? I thought you lived there."

Rory hesitated, cursing her Freudian slip. She hadn't planned to open their reunion this way but, well...she supposed a woman as sharp as Sam would figure it out eventually. "I actually left a couple weeks ago. For good."

Sam's dark brown eyes widened with shock. "So, wait, are you saying this isn't, like, just a visit? This is, like...for good?"

"W-well," Rory rubbed her arm, "until I can figure something out anyway." She looked away, cheeks reddening with shame. This was a mistake. If Sam didn't already hate her for all the missed calls and texts, she would definitely despise her now. After years of little-no-contact, this was how Rory came back? With nothing to show for all the distance she put between them? If Sam laughed and left right then and there, Rory would hardly blame her.

But, to the humiliated graduate's surprise, she felt the soft warmth of Sam's hand rest on hers. "Tell me everything," the auburn-haired angel advised.

That was all it took for the dam to break.

Words and feelings spilled out of Rory faster than she could process, about how much of a disaster the past few years had been. About how the reason she hadn't called or visited while in college was because she was so tired and busy all the time. About how she had sacrificed friendships and fun for a 4.0 GPA, only to realize she didn't even want a degree in business in the first place. About how her move to Chicago was one of post-grad desperation, a waste of time and money that had pushed tensions with her parents to a breaking point. About how she was only 23, and it already felt like she had wasted her life.

That last bit elicited a gentle laugh from Sam. "Aw, Ro-ro, that's so not true and you know it."

Despite herself, Rory laughed too. Only Sam go to call her that, and she had forgotten how much she missed it. "I guess not," she admitted. "But I dunno...I feel like I spent four years and thousands of dollars to figure out who I am, only to realize I still don't know."

Sam let out a murmur of sympathy before the conversation lapsed into silence. Rory shifted awkwardly, feeling a little abashed about dumping years' worth of grievances on her unsuspecting friend.

"But enough about my problems," Rory said, forcing herself to smile. "How are things with you? You look like you're doing amazing."

"Aw, thank you!" Sam beamed. "It's true though. Like, I don't want to brag, but things have been...like, super good for me lately."

Rory nodded, still caught between being impressed and unnerved by her friend's new groove. Sam had always been more of a shy, nerdy type, the sort to stay up for a Doctor Who marathon rather than an all-night rager. It had really devastated her when she found out she couldn't afford college, a reaction that turned resentful when Rory got into her first choice school. The last time Rory saw Sam, she had sunken into a funk of depression and drugs, working stoned retail shifts while Rory was finishing her honor's thesis.

But oh, how the tables had turned. Now Sam was the fresh-faced gal with the glowing skin and sparkling eyes; meanwhile Rory needed two cups of coffee just to finish her makeup.

Rory sighed. "I have to ask: what's your secret? What turned it all around?"

"It's gonna sound really weird but..." Sam wiggled excitedly in her seat and cast a look over her shoulder, as if privy to some irresistible secret. "Do you remember that arcade we used to go to as kids? The one on Main Street?"

"Joystick Joe's?" Rory asked, incredulous. "Wait, is that place still open?"

Sam bobbed her head up and down. "Uh-huh! I go there every day!"

Rory blinked, baffled. "And...how does that explain the, uh, the glow-up?"

"Well..." Sam bit her fingernail. "Um...how much time do you have? It's a lot easier to show than tell, y'know?"

Rory hesitated. She had told her parents she would be home soon for dinner, but her curiosity had been piqued. There was something both intriguing and unsettling about Sam's demeanor, a nagging mystery that would keep Rory up at night unless she got to the bottom of it.

"Okay," Rory agreed. "Show me."

_______________________________________

True to Sam's word and against all odds, the blue neon sign of Joystick Joe's was blinking just as brightly as Rory remembered. The storefront, however, had seen better days: the windows were dusty and cracked, and displayed warped, faded standees for games whose publishers had long since gone bankrupt.

It wasn't the most welcoming of sights but, Rory had to admit, there was something quaintly nostalgic about it. And it was more endearing than the "for lease" signs stretching down the rest of the leaf-strewn streets.

The arcade proper was actually down a set of stairs in an expansive basement: a dark, cavernous room filled with flashing lights and 8-bit sounds. In the past, a cacophony of chatter and laughter would've also reached Rory as she entered; now, its absence made her wonder if the place was abandoned, and Sam had claimed it as her new home.

That notion was dispelled, however, when Rory saw a familiar, muscular man tinkering with the D.O.A. 2 cabinet.

"Heeeey Joe!" Sam sang.

Rory almost laughed. Of course the eponymous "Joystick" Joe would still be here: if anyone was going to survive an apocalypse, even an economic one, it would be him. He was a towering figure, with huge arms, close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, and the ability to reboot any machine with a swift smack to the casing. The last few years had definitely added some lines to his face, but the shark's smile he flashed still gleamed with a dangerous cunning, the kind Rory used to see before he hustled some poor teens in Street Fighter II.

"Hey Sammi," his gruff voice barked. "You brought a friend this time. Fantastic."

"Sammi?" Rory threw a disbelieving glance to her friend.

"It's just what Joe calls me." Sam winked. "Cute, right?"

"Uh, sure," Rory lied, flabbergasted. She thought she was the only one who could call Sam that. Wasn't that the whole point of those stupid, diminutive pet names? That they were only used ironically between best friends?

Sam gestured to Rory. "Joe, this is—"

"Hold on, let me guess," Joe interrupted, scanning Rory's features. "You used to come in here all the time a few years ago right? Tall girl, bright red hair, too good at the claw machine...it's Rory right?"

Rory blushed. "Y-yep that's me."

"Ha ha!" he clapped his massive palms. "I knew I could get it. Did Sammi bring you here for the new machine?"

"Joooeee," Sam whined with a comical pout. "I was gonna surprise her."

"Oops." Joe turned to Rory with an exaggerated grimace. "Forget I said anything. You girls go have fun. I'll be at my station if you need me."

He grabbed his tools and marched away, vanishing in the direction of the combination snack / prize counter. Rory shook her head at the bleak wonder of it all. When she was a teenager, Joe was like a figure of legend, an intimidating titan who could eject cheaters and loudmouths with a single look. Now he was a middle-aged loner trapped in an outdated husk of a life. Though, Rory thought gloomily as Sam lead her onward, maybe she wasn't one to judge at this point.

"We're heeeere!" Sam announced, stopping in front of some sort of rhythm game jammed awkwardly into a corner. The curved support bars and four-direction step controls made Rory mistake it for an old Dance Dance Revolution machine at first. And then she saw the title screen.

"'Ditz Ditz Revolution?'" she read aloud in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me."

"It's silly, right?" Sam giggled, hopping up on the dancing platform. "Joe told me it's some kinda, like, bootleg he got for super cheap. It works just like normal DDR, though. Only better."

"Better how?" Rory asked, stepping up beside her. It certainly wasn't going to be in the technical department: the colors in the CRT monitor were already fading, and the metal dance floors were scuffed and worn. Even if it came "super cheap," Rory suspected the seller got the better end of the bargain.

"Just watch," Sam winked, inserting a couple quarters into the machine. Each coin elicited a bone-shaking "THOOM", starling Rory at first. At least the speakers had some life on them, even if the quality was beginning to crackle.

Sam pressed the start button and gestured to the screen. "Voila!"

Rory squinted, not sure what she was supposed to be seeing. But then it hit her.

The song list was amazing.

"T-this is..." she gasped. "This must have, like, every dance game soundtrack ever on it!"

"Uh-huh," Sam nodded proudly. "Feels like a crime to have this much music on one machine."

"Actually, it probably is," Rory remarked. "There's no way whoever made this got the rights to all of these tracks."

"Oh, poo!" Sam stuck out her tongue. "Stop worrying about boring stuff and just pick a song already!"

Rory laughed. "You got it." She slapped the "select" button.

Upbeat J-pop filled their ears as arrows began flying up the screen. Despite the game's cruddy tech and sketchy origins, Rory couldn't stop herself from grinning. It was just like playing Dance Dance Revolution with Sam in high school, back when the two girls could spend all day and night at the arcade together, nothing on their minds but having as much fun as possible. Rory laughed as the song came to a close, her spirits buoyed by a powerful current of nostalgia and delight.

Was that why Sam had said this machine changed her life? If she was spending every day here getting exercise instead of getting wasted, Rory could see how that would have a transformative effect.

Still, as the two dancers hit the last note of their third and final song, Rory wasn't sure the machine would do the same for her. No matter how light on her feet she was, the problems weighing her down still felt as heavy as ever. A trip down memory lane didn't change that.

Then a message flashed on the screen: "BONUS STAGE UNLOCKED!"

"Oooh!" Sam clapped excitedly. "I knew we'd get it!"

"What'd we do?" Rory asked, confused.

"You know how, like, sometimes these games give you bonus songs if you do really good in them? This game does that too, but it, like, messes up a lot and gives you a bonus even if you suck!" she laughed.

"Oh, nice." Rory turned towards the screen, curious to see what song Ditz Ditz Revolution chose for its bonus stage. To her disappointment, however, it was one she had never heard of: a pastel-pink track called "Good Girl."

"What is this?" she asked as bubblegum beats bounded out of the speakers.

"Uh, only like the best song ever," Sam answered, eagerly bouncing on her toes. "You'll see."

"Sure..." Rory muttered skeptically as the first steps came into view. She hit them perfectly, the patterns surprisingly sparse and simple. Right-right-right-right...down-down-down-down...was this a joke? This was the secret bonus song for expert performers?

At least the background visualizations were cool: an ever-changing series of colorful patterns that pulsed in time with the music. Even without a HD screen, Rory found the depth and detail amazing. It was almost impossible to tear her focus away, yet some peripheral, instinctual part of her was still able to follow the step commands as they scrolled by. The effect was completely captivating, a feeling like she was using all of her mind while not thinking at all.

It helped the song was so catchy too. The repetitive melody, infectious rhythms, and chirpy singing meant that she was bobbing her head along before the first chorus had even concluded. She just wished the lyrics were a bit clearer—the tinny, messy quality of the vocaloid singer made picking out individual words impossible.

By the end of the song, Rory found herself out of breath and light-headed, yet strangely exhilarated. "That felt, like...like..."

"So good, right?" Sam beamed.

"Yeah, so good." Rory returned the goofy grin. For some reason, those words sent a burst of giddiness through her, a heady rush like she used to feel whenever she suddenly understood a complicated problem at school. Only here, the lesson couldn't have been simpler: dancing felt so good.

Her mood darkened, however, when she felt a pair of eyes sliding down her backside. She turned to see a young, skinny man with messy black hair standing nearby and starring at her.

"Uh, can I help you?" Rory crossed her arms, annoyed.

The man recoiled, as if surprised Rory would think to address him. "E-er s-sorry," he stammered. "It's j-just um," he nodded towards Sam, "she usually comes alone."

"And how does that give you the right to just stand there and leer at us?" Rory demanded.

"Aw, it's okay Ro-ro," Sam stepped in between them with an abashed smile. "It's just Harrison. He likes to watch me sometimes. No big deal."

"'No big deal?'" Rory repeated, incredulous. "Since when do you go for that kind of attention?"

"Hey," Harrison protested, "what do you mean 'that kind of attention?'"

"You know exactly what I mean," Rory shot back. "You—"

"Focus on the screen, Ro-ro," Sam interrupted. "I've started another round."

Oops. Rory turned back just in time as the next song started, Harrison's presence fading into the background. Three tracks came and went like before, save for the occasional pause for Sam to send a wink or wave Harrison's way. Rory rolled her eyes, but decided it was harmless fun. If Sam wanted to bask in male attention, who was Rory to get in her way?

As the scores tallied up, a familiar message appeared: "BONUS STAGE UNLOCKED!"

"Wow," Rory exhaled, realizing that she had been holding her breath for some reason.

"See!" Sam exclaimed. "I told you, it's, like, every time!"

Rory couldn't suppress an excited smile. Even though it was such an easy song, her pulse was racing with anticipation for "Good Girl" to begin.

The opening chords played, and once again Rory found herself swept away. The syrupy sweet sounds filled her ears while the cascading visuals flooded her eyes, leaving her adrift on an entrancing feeling of bliss. Nothing else could reach her—nothing could shatter the simple joy of her body in movement.

Focus on the screen...

Feels so good...

Rory stumbled a little when the beats finally stopped, a stray giggle bubbling out of her. Even though the song had ended, it still felt like there was an echo of it in her head, the notes bouncing through her brain over and over again.

"Wanna do another?" Sam offered.

"Uh, yes, please!" Rory clapped. She had to hand it to Sam: this was definitely better than normal DDR.

And way more addictive, too.

As Sam bent over to put in more quarters, Rory chanced a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, Harrison was still there, blatantly looking up her friend's skirt. He flinched when he realized Rory had seen him, but she just stuck out her tongue and laughed. Even if he annoyed her earlier, she just couldn't stay mad at him. It seemed so silly when she was having so much fun.

It wasn't like she could blame him anyway: Sam did have a really, really nice ass. And...was she wearing a thong?

"Okay!" Sam straightened. "Ro-ro, you got a song you wanna play next?"

"Nn-nn," Rory shook her head, still bobbing to the faint traces of "Good Girl" reverberating in her ears.

"What about you, Harrison?" Sam asked with a cheeky smirk. "Wanna choose for us?"

"Uh, sure," Harrison nodded.

Sam gestured for Harrison to step up and select the song. Rory arched her eyebrows skeptically, but didn't press the issue. Sure, it was weird, but raising a stink would just make it take longer to get to the bonus stage.

Besides, having Harrison so close gave Rory the chance to really get a good look at him. And, upon second appraisal...Rory decided he was a lot easier on the eyes than she had thought. He was a little wiry, sure, but there was something kinda enticing about the way his v-neck t-shirt hung on his slight body, making her wonder how it looked underneath.

Harrison lifted his hands from the controls as the cursor settled. "Is this one okay?" he asked.

Rory looked at the screen. The track he had selected was a slow, easy lounge jam—the kind that beginners picked when they were still learning the game. She was about to object to such a boring choice, when Sam piped up.

"Ahhh I knew you would pick this one!" the bouncy brunette exclaimed. "It's, like, his favorite," she added to Rory with a sly smirk.

The song started up, and Rory readied herself to plod through the motions. To her surprise, though, Sam wasn't in her usual playing stance. Instead, she was swaying in time to the beat, her hips flowing in slow, sexy circles. Rory had to focus on the screen as the arrows came up, but she could still tell that Sam wasn't too concerned with hitting the right steps. Instead, she was taking the opportunity to put on a little show, running her hands up and down her curvaceous body, turning and bending over to make sure Harrison could see all the way down her ample cleavage.

Rory tried to ignore the provocative performance, but the heat rising through her body made it impossible. Even as she felt embarrassed, her humiliation was tinged by an undeniable, unexplainable arousal. Sam wasn't just doing a little strip-tease for Harrison: she was offering herself to him, licking her lips as though intoxicated by his attention.

And, when the song ended and Rory saw Harrison's eyes fixed on her friend, a horrible realization struck her.

She felt kind of jealous of Sam.

Rory continued to stew in those feelings as the next song played. As much as she hated to admit it, it was impossible to enjoy the game now without Harrison's eyes on her backside. She wanted him to look at her; wanted him to watch her the way he watched Sam. Maybe it was because Rory hadn't gotten laid in a while, or maybe she was more attracted to Harrison than she realized. But whatever the reason: she wanted him to hunger for her, to long for her body the same way he clearly lusted for Sam's.

"Um, Harrison?" Rory asked after the song ended, resting a finger on her lip. "Would you mind, like, picking the next song for us too?"

"S-sure, okay," Harrison replied.

"And make it an easy one, please," Rory added, running her hands down her hips and rubbing her thighs. "My legs are, like, soooo tired."

Harrison hesitated, then tore his eyes away and quickly made a selection. Rory noticed with some satisfaction that his dismount from the platform was an awkward one, on account of the massive erection straining his pants.