Disheveled and slightly incoherent, Peter Molyneux can't wait to tell you his new idea and how it will shape the games industry moving forward.
“It's a puzzle! It's a mystery!” You hear the shouting as you get closer to the alleyway you always hate passing on your walk home. “Unique to every player! Years to solve! It'll take years!”
The screams are getting higher in pitch, more desperate, manic. You fumble for the headphones in your pocket, but they're too tangled. In your rush to pull them apart they slip from your hands as you reach the end of the wall, the alley a gaping maw to your right. Peter Molyneux stands there laughing, placing bits of trash on top of each other.
Unsure if he's seen you, you reach out slowly for your headphones, but it's enough movement to catch his attention. You stifle a scream of your own as he lunges forward, flaps of torn suit flapping behind him. “I've almost got it,” he hisses, spittle flying between his teeth, splashing your face. Before you can move he starts raving again, promising a gaming experience unlike anything seen before. He turns towards the dumpster to grab his prototype and you flee, winding your way through random streets, the fear disabling your sense of direction. From behind you hear a primal cry of rage, but it seems he hasn't followed you.
You slow down and catch your breath, hold the stitch in your side.
The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you hear the screams again, somewhere in the distance:
“Imagine a game! IMAGINE A GAME!”