What’re you waiting for? If you haven’t applied to join OSW already, you should be on your way there. Failing that, be sure to follow us on Twitch at TheRAGEsmash and FastLanePlays!
Back to Top

Choo-Choo!

Choo-Choo!

My Uncle told me to live life like a moving train when I was a kid.

Now I didn’t know what the fuck that meant; the reckless youth in me didn’t connect well with the metaphoric field goal, if you get my drift.

But eventually? That shit hit me, ya’dig?

To live like a train is to not give a good-gracious Goddamn about the things that stand before you.

It is built to be fearless and determined to remain loyal to the destination its tracks have set before it, and there ain’t nothin’ that’s going to tell it differently.

Put the biggest tree stump you can find in front of a speeding locomotive and it’ll turn that bitch into a love note.

Shit, put a Tahoe in front of it, and you’ll get two Smart Cars out of the deal.

Bottom line, there is no such thing as an overcoming obstacle to a train – it will move forward at an unforgiving pace because that’s what it was designed to do.

Before this advice settled into my bloodstream, I was like a withered popsicle stick against a strong gust of wind.

I was afraid of everything – and everything took advantage of that unfortunate intel, ya’dig?

The cynics, the critics, the fat-mouthed muscle – they moulded me into what they wanted.

That was, until my mind took on the power of the train.

And that was when moulded myself into what wanted to be – and all those bastards that tainted my childhood became nothing but pennies on my rails.

Jet Set Radio?

We’re that steam train.

We’ve got a bunch of shit to do –  wishes of our own to grant into reality and when you take on an ambitious role like that, everything that stands before you must be disposable.

Everything’s gotta take on the appearance of a fallen tree, an abandoned pickup truck, the fucking house from the Wizard of Oz –

Or, if it must be –  Captain Hook, a mummified Freddy Kruger, and a fat monk.

You can put all three of these critically acclaimed, old-school beasts across the tracks, linked at the hand, and this train is going to suddenly turn all of this into a snuff film.

And it ain’t out of hate, or some petty vengeful bullshit –

It’s because we’ve made it well known that our speeding machine was established without barriers surrounding it. We didn’t come into this motherfucker shaking hands and kissing feet –

We stormed the gates like Miley, wrecking ball a-swingin’ – and if you weren’t wise enough to get the fuck out of the way, then you became just another layer to this iron dick we’re slingin’, ya’dig?

So, case and point?

This train’s rollin’ through TriosMania with no intentions of boarding anyone.

The best thing the three of you can do is step aside and salute the crew with an Au Revoir, because kneejerk flexes are irreversible, baby, and may just leave you yearning for a few limbs that are now rattling against the pistons.

And the next card’s gonna need a few undercard matches.

Choo Choo, bitch.