Fortnite

You ever played a game called Fortnite?

No? Let me break it down for you: It’s like going grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon, except instead of bumping carts with Linda from accounting in the cereal aisle, you’re being ambushed by a 9-year-old named “xXBuildGod420Xx” who just constructed a 14-story mansion around you in 2.7 seconds.

I downloaded it thinking, “Oh, how hard can it be? I’ve played Mario Kart. I know a thing or two about competition.” Then I landed on the map, immediately got sniped by someone who apparently had an actual PhD in button smashing.

There’s this thing called “building” in Fortnite. You get shot at? Build a wall. Someone builds a wall? Build a taller wall. Someone builds a skyscraper? Build the Eiffel Tower. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying to figure out how to turn my little wooden ramp in the right direction before I get turned into digital confetti.

I tried to play with my nephew once. He looked at me the same way you’d look at a dog trying to play chess. “Uncle, no, you have to edit the wall, not just stand there and look at it.” Edit the wall? I can barely edit a Word document without the whole thing turning into Times New Roman size 84 by accident.

And don’t even get me started on the outfits. These players are out here dressed like neon jellyfish, rainbow llamas, alien marshmallow DJs, and somehow still manage to headshot me from 400 yards away while dancing. Meanwhile, I’m running around in the default brown pants looking like an unpaid intern at an apocalypse theme park.

Then there’s the dances — oh, the dances. You get eliminated, and instead of a polite handshake or a “good game,” your opponent starts doing a full-blown TikTok routine on your grave. Nothing humbles you faster than getting teabagged by a banana in sunglasses while your nephew narrates every humiliating detail to his Twitch chat.

There’s also something deeply insulting about hearing that little “thwip” of a grappling hook right before someone swings over you, shoots you in the back, and then uses your loot to make a mini Starbucks on top of a mountain.

And let’s talk about the final circle. The storm closes in, your palms are sweating, your heart is pounding like you just ran from an actual bear. You peek out from behind a rock — boom! Someone builds an entire Costco above you and rains down fire like they’ve been personally trained by Thor.

I once made it to second place. Thought I was finally getting the hang of it. I had a shotgun, some confidence, and a dream. Then a guy in a giant Peely (banana) suit appeared out of nowhere, built a fortress, and dropped me faster than my motivation to go to the gym on a Monday.

After that, I took a good long look at my life choices. I deleted Fortnite, made myself a sandwich, and watched YouTube videos titled “How to not suck at Fortnite,” narrated by a child whose voice hadn’t even cracked yet.

So, yeah. You ever played Fortnite? It’s basically like entering a chaotic, candy-colored Hunger Games hosted by Zoomers on four energy drinks, a bag of Takis, and zero respect for your fragile adult ego.

Good luck out there. And if you see me in the game? Don’t shoot. I’m just here looking for a quiet corner to hide and cry in peace.