MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCH(O)…
Within a week, Hecklr mania had spread like crazy, much to my complete surprise.
Heck (see what I did there?), I created this game to amuse myself. When my dad started complaining that I didn’t do enough outdoor activities, I designed the game so you could play it outdoors. In fact, you could play it anywhere within Rancho Verdugo city limits that had something powered by electricity.
But fat luck getting Coach Bean to look at a screen.
I uploaded the game to the internet so that CyberGirl03 could give it a try. I thought it would make her laugh, and maybe less bored during the day.
Now it seems like everybody at my middle school is hunting for Lerkians—including some teachers. No, I’m being completely serious. Now when Dad drops me off in front of the school every morning, I see at least two teachers (Hello, Mr. Southward, hey there, Miss Rice) pointing their phones at the big electric RANCHO VERDUGO MIDDLE SCHOOL sign.
I wonder what my teachers say to the little alien creepazoids to make them go away. Is it the same kinds of things they say to us students?
I can imagine Coach Pluck trying to whip the Lerkians into shape.
But the mania has spread far beyond the walls of my school. People all over the city are wandering the streets, phones in their hands laughing and pointing. It’s like a zombie invasion, minus the zombies!
Sometimes, traffic grinds to a halt as players with their cell phones wander into the street in an attempt to stop the Lerkians from committing another dastardly deed. And the people who have to pull their cars over? Well, they don’t really mind, because it gives them an excuse to take a break and stop another Lerkian!
Now, I can imagine how scary this must seem to people who haven’t heard about Hecklr. They must think the general population has gone out of its mind. Maybe somebody dumped some kind of mind-control superdrug into the drinking water! Maybe aliens are actually invading!
And I’m guessing that one or two of these concerned citizens called the local TV news stations, because suddenly there are reporters and cameras on the streets, interviewing random Hecklr players.
“Excuse me, miss—Tom Giacchino, Action News. Are you currently playing Hecklr?”
“OMG—there’s one on your camera! Don’t you see it?”
“Are you being serious, miss? I don’t see anything.”
“Here, look through my phone!”
“Gah! You’re right! How do I get rid of it?”
Meanwhile, the camera guy starts freaking out. “Get it off me! Get it off me!”
And then viewers at home are treated to shaky-cam footage of Tom Giacchino as he tries to insult the Lerkian enough so that it will leave his poor camera guy alone.
Stuff like this is just born to go viral. And guess what: it does.
Within a few days, everybody seemed to know about Rancho Verdugo, California, the capital of Hecklr mania. For some mysterious (ahem) reason, the Lerkians are really focused on this small town just outside of sunny Los Angeles.
Soon, people were asking why the game didn’t work in other parts of the country. Did the company behind Hecklr do a “soft” roll-out to see how the game would do in a tiny little sunbaked place like Rancho Verdugo?
And if that was the case, when would it be available in New York City? Topeka, Kansas? Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania? Truth or Consequences, New Mexico?
And more importantly—who was behind this game? No company seemed to be taking credit for it, which drove people bonkers. What the heck was going on?
Tourists started pouring into Rancho Verdugo just to play Hecklr. I’m not kidding! They were spending buckets of money just to fly here and chase around little wiry aliens on their smartphones.
And as for me? Well, I never felt happier.
In those early days of Hecklr mania, I would walk around the streets of my adopted city, thrilled to see everyone playing my game.
But I never, ever reveal my secret.