I had to really sift through some hazy "Vodka Pepsi" memory holes from 1991 in order to cobble together today’s review. 1991 isn't the last time I played the game, but it is the last time I almost spilled my drunk ass forty feet into a creek as my entire youth group watched.

Today’s review is Alex Kidd in Miracle World.

As we know, Rock, Paper, Scissors has been played ever since the cavemen invented it. The only way they knew how to play was to use real rocks for the Rock part, and each other’s heads for the Paper and Scissors parts. A remnant of that violent origin remains, as I learned when I played The Ellis Variant as a teenager.

That summer I played a ton of Master System games, but my favorite was one called “Alex Kidd in Miracle World,” and it truly seemed like one. It’s a colorful quest to acquire some rice balls and make friends with a princess. Not a bad goal for a Sunday afternoon.

When you arrive at a level boss, they say something like “Hello, I’m Scissor Head, let’s play,” then you dance at each other before choosing what hand sign to use. Pick the stronger one, you win. Win two out of three, and the boss disappears into a friendly cloud of smoke, no fighting or hurt feelings at all. A perfect encounter.

The standout feature was the option to buy a sick ass motorcycle at the shop. I’d lose it instantly because it vaporized the second you brushed against a block or enemy, but I was always excited for it anyway. Outside of the serene boss encounters, the rest of the game was hard as hell.

One day in early September of 1991, my buddy Ellis and I were walking over to his house. It was a bright summer day, school was still looming, and later that afternoon we were going on an AWANA youth group trip to a "cave system" famous in our area. It was more like a “stone indentation” but no one would want to come if you called it that.

As I went on about Alex Kidd for the tenth time, Ellis cut in “Hey...I have a good idea.” My stomach dropped. ‘I have a good idea’ meant he was going to roll around in some kind of dog shit, but I’d end up covered in it. Ever the fast-talker in his pristine Starter jacket and Vanilla Ice haircut, Ellis always got his way.

Even when you told him No you were somehow saying Yes.

That day his “good idea” was to bring Pepsi on the church bus, but open the cans beforehand and spike them with vodka from his stepdad’s liquor cabinet. There was always a lot of booze at Ellis's house. His parents really loved it, they even named their dog "Smirnoff." I was 14, had never been drunk, and told Ellis no. Absolutely not.

Later on the bus, after we’d both downed our Vodka Pepsi, I was shitfaced and fighting to hold it together. It felt like my central nervous system was being rewired in real time, my body refusing to follow the simplest commands. Never the victim of his own designs, Ellis was fine. The jerk probably dumped more vodka into my can than his.

Luckily, he was loudly holding court at the rear of the bus, making everyone around us laugh with his made-up exploits. I took the opportunity to sink unnoticed into my seat beside him. Even when I was sober, being noticed was “not optimal.”

Shockingly, the only person who noticed the vodka at all was Pastor Roy, the youth group leader, who said “It smells like someone's been drinking on this bus” in his signature prissy tone. My stomach tightened as his accusing gaze swept across the bus.

I was certain he was going to jab his finger at me, yell “Sinner!” then make me "pray this out" in front of everyone. A terrifying prospect- there’s nothing worse than people watching you pretend to pray. Except maybe people saying “Hey, you’re only pretending to pray!”

Instead, he turned back around and sat down in his seat, shaking his head. I bet he didn’t investigate any further because he just wanted to get the day over with and make it back home without admitting to someone’s parents that their kid got drunk on his watch.

As an adult I understand the consuming need to “just get the hell home and lay on the couch.”

Catastrophe averted, Ellis turned his attention to me and came up with his next “cool idea” to pass the time. “Hey, let’s play Rock, Paper, Scissors,” he said, his voice bright. I said “OK, that's fine.”

I was familiar with the rules thanks to Alex Kidd and I was relieved he wanted to do something simple and harmless. Something my buzzed-up brain wouldn’t have to focus on too hard.

I should have known better, of course. There was an “Ellis Twist” to this game, which was a special seasoning he would sprinkle on normal activities in order to make them worse for me and more fun for him. These twists would later evolve into things like “breaking and entering” and “vehicular assault” but by then he had other, more willing participants.

The special ingredient this time was bad enough: the winner of each round would lick his first and second fingers, then grab the loser’s wrist with their other hand and slam their fingers down on their forearm with a loud SMACK.

I didn’t win often. It’s like Ellis could somehow read my mind and switch at the very last second to win, just like you could do to the bosses in Alex Kidd. Had I been sober, I might’ve noticed something was up. Not that I’d have done anything about it, mind you, but I’d have noticed.

My slaps were weak, I hate hitting people. I wanted to say uncle and stop. By this time, all the other kids in the back of the bus were watching us and having fun and I didn’t want to be the reason people were disappointed, so I stayed quiet.

Not everyone was enjoying the show. A girl named Crystal, who was new to AWANA, watched quietly. She didn’t laugh or cheer when Ellis slapped my arm.

By the time Pastor Roy got wind of our Rock, Paper, Scissors game, came back and told us we were ridiculous and to knock it off, my arm was red and starting to bruise.

Ellis was Fine and All Smiles, of course. Ellis was always Fine and All Smiles.

A few hours later, we arrived at the cave, which was situated beside a very large creek. After the requisite group prayer, we were given the choice to explore on our own or with a partner. There were some easy hiking trails that led up to a waterfall far above us. I was a big Indiana Jones Kid, so I was excited for an adventure.

Ellis disappeared with a girl he liked, leaving me all alone. I could hear his loud, show-offy voice interspersed with her giggles coming from the trees. I stood looking around awkwardly until Crystal, the girl I’d noticed on the bus ride, came over to me. “Do you want to go on a hike with me?” she asked.

She looked cool with her leather jacket and braided ponytail that laid over her shoulder. Unlike the girls at school, the ones at youth group weren’t embarrassed to be seen talking to me.

This was the first time a girl wanted to spend time alone with me, so I took no time saying yes to her offer.

We set off up the trail leading to the waterfall. I can remember how the sun shone through the leaves of the trees as we walked, and the sound of the birds singing in them. The waning days of summer always felt special. Magic, even. Time slowed down and I appreciated things more, savoring the time I had away from school before that guillotine dropped.

Thanks to the illegal teenage buzz I was secretly nursing, I was more talkative than normal.

Crystal was confident and fun, I could tell she didn’t care what people thought about her. I liked that. I envied it. She held your gaze and nodded when you talked to her, like she really wanted to know what you had to say. Eye contact is something I struggle with, I can never maintain it for longer than a few seconds. Sometimes you meet people who make you forget you're supposed to feel self-conscious.

“Do you really think someone was drinking on the bus, like Pastor Roy said?” she asked.

Imitating Pastor Roy’s prissy voice, I said “No, because I would be responsible for that and I can’t be responsible for sins.” She laughed.

Smiles and laughter came easy for her. For once, they were coming easy for me, too. I was making a friend.

Out of nowhere, she turned serious. “Why did you let that guy on the bus hit you so much? He seems like a real jerk."

I was unprepared for this. I said, "I don’t know, he always has these ideas, and since he’s my friend I go along with them. It isn’t a big deal, it’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore." Lying to cover up how hurt or embarrassed I was had become a reflex by that point. Anyone who's ever been fourteen knows what I'm talking about.

She said “Well, he was cheating at that game. He was waiting to pick his hand until you did yours at the last second."

She walked a few paces ahead of me then stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face me. She brushed her ponytail off her shoulder and put her hands on her hips.

"Plus, if he was your friend he wouldn’t do stuff like that. It’s not normal to want to hurt your friends. It's like, extremely psychotic.” She stood there, blocking the path, waiting for my reply.

This concept was so alien to me it could have hopped into a UFO and flown away and I wouldn’t have been surprised. Everyone hurts you somehow, it’s just the way people are. I didn't know what to say to her, but I didn't want to argue and sound like an alien myself, so I didn't say anything.

I shrugged. She sighed and shook her head, then she turned around and continued up the path. I felt like I'd said the wrong thing, even though I hadn't said anything. I still do that.

We arrived at the top of the waterfall, and peered at the creek far below. It was wide but very shallow, nowhere the river that had been advertised. It was a day of undelivered promises, I guess.

We spotted a narrow branch of trail dropping steeply toward a rocky outcropping above the creek. Mist from the waterfall had turned it to slick mud, and nothing was there to stop you from sliding your ass right off if you lost your balance.

Crystal said "Do you want to try going down there?"

I was surprised. From this height, a fall probably meant instant death or at least serious injury. Even worse: embarrassment. But she didn’t seem afraid, so I thought if I pretended I wasn’t either, maybe she’d think I was cool in the way girls always thought Ellis was cool.

“Yeah, let’s do it!” I hoped the excitement in my voice sounded genuine.

“I’ll go first!” I added, possibly insane, possibly just run-of-the-mill stupid. Without waiting for her answer, I started down the muddy path and immediately slipped. I forced out a chuckle through my terror so she’d know this was No Big Deal.

I slowed my descent and crouched low, clinging to the thick roots that lined the trail as I inched the rest of the way down. Everyone at the creek below immediately spotted me, and Pastor Roy was already yelling, “Get off there and back onto the main path right now!”

I turned to climb up, but I slid back down and nearly off the edge into the shallow creek forty feet below. My feet dangled in the air before I caught hold of a root. I was scared, but fear wasn't what threatened to paralyze me there on that ledge. It was embarrassment. Everybody's eyes were on me.

My ears were rushing with the sound of pumping blood as I made it back to my feet. I stood there, frozen by nerves and uncertainty about what to do next. Everyone started pointing and yelling, “TAKE HER HAND!” My face was hot as I turned toward Crystal, who had one hand outstretched while the other gripped a small tree behind her. I took it. Her hand was warm and soft, and her grip was strong. Our eyes met as she squeezed my hand, her face expressionless. With a small grunt, she hauled me up. “You alright?” she asked, her voice low.

Ellis would have been laughing at me. I said yes.

I grinned, my cheeks still burning, hoping to reassure her that we were still having fun. Her expression stayed neutral as her lips pursed into one of those flat, humorless smiles that don’t quite reach the eyes.

I understood that smile. By the time you're fourteen years old, everyone does. We'd seen it all our lives.

We didn’t talk on the walk back down to the creek, or again on that trip. In fact, Crystal and I never spoke to each other again. I understood.

I always understood.

I wish we could learn every important lesson at once, right when we're born. It’s unfair that we can only figure things out by screwing everything up first.

Crystal didn't just pull me up from a ledge. She was the first person who ever told me it wasn't okay for the people who are supposed to care about you to hurt you. It's something a kid should learn before they're 14 years old.

I’d thank her if I could, but it's been 34 years since that day and I don’t know her last name. So instead of hunting her down on Facebook like a maniac, I'll honor her lesson and pass it on in case anyone needs to hear it. I think that's a pretty good alternative.

That evening on the ride home, it started to storm. We were all exhausted from the trip, most of the other kids were soon asleep. Ellis wanted to play Rock, Paper, Scissors again and I nodded. Pastor Roy either didn’t notice or didn't care this time. Neither did I.

As we played, my thoughts drifted to Miracle World, how great it would be to actually live there. Even if I never got to keep my motorcycle, Crystal and I would be friends, and winning Rock, Paper, Scissors would make Ellis disappear in a cloud of smoke.

I nursed these thoughts while I listened to the sound of the rain, punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder and the crack of Ellis's fingers on my arm. He’d given up the pretense of the game and was just slapping my arm and laughing. I wondered what Ellis would be if he dropped every pretense.

I looked toward Crystal's seat. Her head rested against the rain-streaked window, facing away from us. I thought she was asleep at first, but she was only pretending. In the dim light of the bus, accentuated by occasional flickers of lightning, I could see her fingers twirling the ends of her ponytail.

I shifted in my seat and replayed the events of the day in my mind. The things she'd said, the way she'd looked at me by the waterfall after rescuing me. The weight of that final, hollow smile.

A particularly hard slap on my arm broke me out of my reverie. I glanced at Crystal again. Her hands were now in her lap and her breath was slow and even. She wasn't pretending anymore. I watched her for a few moments, then pulled my wrist from Ellis's grasp and folded both arms across my chest. I turned back to my own window to watch the storm and thought of how Crystal and I had laughed together.

The gentle rocking of the bus lulled me to sleep as it rolled across the dark highway toward home, where Miracle World waited.