We were always going to have to move on from Pokemon Go. But so many pleasant memories! Those heady days when we hatched a Snorlax, enjoyed a moment of sheer exhilaration after a victory in a gym battle and that time I hi-fived myself in that unlikely scenario where, trying to keep the momentum whilst on a girls weekend, I snagged one of the more iconic Pokemon and received that ultimate kid affirmation in reply:
Me: I caught a Pikachu
Dan: Sick
Pokemon Go is as good as dead now, despite the plaintive notifications that implore me to return with promises of new creatures and the ability to trade with friends. It has been hard to let go of of how cool my persona looks in Lycra pants, rocking a real-life unattainable thigh gap and looking svelte next to my lumpy walking buddy Snorlax.
The new thing is Fortnite. Every parent is scared that this game is going to turn their kiddo into someone who appears on Bowling For Columbine II but my fairly limited research suggests that if you are anything like me I’m not sure you’ll be able to hate it. Here’s why:
It’s bloodless
Despite the fact that if you are playing the Battle Royale version, you need to kill 99 other people to be successful, you are going to see less blood than a 1990s episode of ER. Actually none. Despite wielding weapons that seem to be fairly semi-automatic, your strafing of opponents is totally PG. No one loses an arm after concentrated linear sniper fire across a bicep. No-one bleeds out from a femoral artery after a knife fight. No one gets a Sopranos-style double tap to the forehead.
If you are shot in Fortnite, you drop to your hands and knees and grow weary. You crawl around a fair bit. You look like someone who needs to get home to a warm house and a Milo. This is uncannily like something that could happen after a night out and one too many sauv blancs.
It starts with a partybus
Although Fornite starts with you and your 99 opponents boarding something called a battle bus, which sounds grim and terribly Con-Air, in reality you are with 99 other gaudily dressed, like-minded folk ready to take on the mean streets of a well-documented geographical area. Pretty much the gamer equivalent of a hen’s night bus.
Unlike a nightclub bus, you can eject yourself at will, and with the aid of a glider, drift dreamily away, completely solo, to your desired destination instead of being propelled unwillingly to a screeching girl line-up of tequila shots.
There are random dance moves
Inexplicably, amongst the elimination of 99 opponents, there’s a button that allows you to step away from the continual carnage, collection of weapons and relentless construction. You can free your mind from the trials of everyday fortnite-ness and just bust out some dance moves.
Everything about this is appealing. If I could just step out of my back-to-back meeting nightmares and throw down a flossing move I think life could become inestimably easier. I think that reverting to a positively Neanderthal ‘Best Mates’ move would make me one step closer to embracing Pete Evans and becoming Paleo.
If you don’t feel like personally hitting the dance floor you can throw out a boogie-bomb which preoccupies your opponent in their own dance-floor crazy while you skip away from their bullets.
Instead, I’m stuck in a real world where chancy dance moves are about as acceptable as belting out an unsolicited show-tune.
It’s perfect for the commitment-phobe
I struggle with long novels, six month term deposits and exhausting Lord of the Rings epics. On the other hand, I’ve got a totally co-dependent relationship with Netflix given that corporation’s ability to indulge my instant gratification gene via the staccato delivery of short episodes.
Fortnight battles are about the same commitment as an episode of Sex and The City. They are short and there is always the opportunity of just one more….
The added bonus
Just when you think that you can’t go one more second without reclaiming the big screen TV from the sweaty-handed gamer in your house, just know that you can totally take back the telly.
Inexplicably, a child deprived of access to Fortnite will, without much complaint, revert to another digital option to just sit and watch strangers play Fortnite. If you think that this sounds crazy, just take a moment to observe the fondness that you reserve for Anastasia and Faye on Gogglebox.
I’m sure there is a deadly amount of kiddo spare time being devoted to Fornite that that could otherwise have been dedicated to bathroom-based chores and teenage hygiene, but it would appear that Fortnite isn’t the worst way they could be spending their time. In the 80s I spent three hours or 9 x Fortnite instalments obtaining a regrettable perm that was still unsuccessful in triggering any interest from my year eight crush.
We all have our rites of passage.