Rookie of the Year: The Road Not Tekken

The following is the latest in a series of journal entries chronicling the author’s descent into next-gen gaming degeneracy – from getting his first television in years to trying to figure out why the @$@”$)@ you need two goddamn directional pads just to walk down a fucking hallway.

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Holy hot dogs, Tekken 6.

You, a second-rate fighting game I completely suck at, have managed to tap into my subconscious – creating no doubt the single most ironic videogame experience of what has so far been a lifetime of ironic videogame experiences.

Let me set the scene.

In order to get a non-gamer friend to play Xbox with me, I bought a used copy of her favorite game, Tekken (more specifically, Tekken 6). But while she can kick my ever-loving ass playing with any character she might care to select, my newly-adopted favorite character – nay, the only character I have any interest in using – is Bob.

That’s right, Bob. The fat fuck in the jean jacket.

The irony – and what might make Bob, at least to me, the most fascinatingly original character in the history of videogames – is that while I have battled to lose a once-unthinkable 101 pounds in the past four years, Bob, according to the obese Tekken 6 avatar’s origin story, actually ballooned up in weight.

On purpose.

To become the ultimate fighting machine.

It seemed so preposterous, so against everything I’ve come to believe in and understand, that not only do I now use Bob exclusively while playing Tekken 6, I have watched his origin story three times – the last time sitting two feet from my TV, carefully snapping still photos of each slide as if I were some sort of Tekken anthropologist.

For those of you who don’t know the epic tale of Bob, let me share it with you, picture-book style, with my added commentary below.

“Bob was very serious about his training.”

(No shit. Dude is ripped. I think even the girl on the right with no eyes might keel over at any second.)

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“Heralded as a master of the martial arts from a young age, his chiseled body and handsome face gained him many fans.”

(Notice the brilliant use of foreshadowing here: “GAINED him many fans.” I don’t know who wrote these, but he or she is wasting their talent.)

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“However, he could not win against larger opponents. In order to devise a special training regimen that increased power and weight while maintaining agility, he vanished from the martial arts scene.”

(Cue ’80s movie montage of Bob, face obscured by a hooded overcoat, walking into an Applebee’s.)

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“After several years of pursuing this regimen, Bob returned.”

(I’m sorry, but at least two Bobs returned. Granted, his arms look massive in this drawing, but he’s nowhere near as intimidating in the actual gameplay, where he more closely resembles Fat Bastard.)

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“Those who knew him from before were astonished and disappointed at his transformation. His handsome looks were gone, and he appeared to have just gotten fat.”

(Appeared? Fat Bob is fat. End of story. I wouldn’t say it to his face, but there you have it.)

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“However, Bob paid no attention to them, and was very proud that he had attained a body with the perfect balance of speed, power and weight.”

(Good for Bob. No one should succumb to peer pressure. Are you listening, kids? Next time someone calls you obese, wipe the chicken nugget grease off your mouth and tell them you’ve attained the perfect balance of speed, power and weight.)

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“He decides that he is ready, and enters The King of Iron Fist Tournament 6 in order to test his martial arts abilities.”

(He just has to finish his burrito first.)

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By the time Matt Marrone finishes Tekken 6’s scenario campaign, he may have more than just a second Unwinnable column. He may have a PhD thesis. Follow him on Twitter @thebigm.