As Ben has somewhat tersely noted over at his blog, tonight he and I finished our big summer project: playing through The Warriors in co-op mode.

(On "Hardcore Soldier" mode, no less — this is the first time I've ever skipped normal difficulty and started with hard, but now it's clear that we made the right decision. The learning curve was pretty steep, though — once we got better I started accusing Ben of having lowered the difficulty level in my absence.)

The game is fashioned philosophically after the old-fashioned brawlers (e.g. that four-person Ninja Turtles arcade game), technically after Grand Theft Auto, and thematically after A Clockwork Orange — you play a scrappy band of gang members fighting for control of a dark 1970s New York City.

There's more to this plot, in fact the videogame is the prequel to an old movie I'm now very interested in renting, but it's the sadistic little touches that really made me love this game:

The ringing sound a policeman's riot helmet makes when you throw him into a parking meter, that extra who ran around shouting "Maria! Maria! I've got to find Maria!" during a fire, the random "King of the Hill" level at the junkyard, the guy who spat in my face when I tried to mug him... they really thought of everything.

Unfortunately, actually conquering the game was anticlimactic. Ben and I spent half an hour puzzling over what we could have missed before we found out we just needed to do some exercises in our base's gym.

I'm going to miss The Warriors. Drinking beer and bopping boppers a few nights each week was a welcome diversion, especially since Ben is one of the few people in the Cities whom I know independently of Graham and/or Jenna.

For the first month or so, that game was my proof that I wasn't just a tag-along. I mean, I was player two, but just because it's the superior slot. I mean, Luigi.

As for what we'll do now, besides the usual: oh, there are plans.