July 26, 2026
Written for Cremated Plastics by Chris Bishop
Edgar latched the lock on the door, the last of the guests finally gone for the night. He returned to the workroom and flipped the main switches. Fluorescent overhead bulbs flickered and buzzed as they came on, bathing the arcade in light.
Grabbing the spray bottle of unmarked cleaner and a rag yellowed with age and grime, Edgar set to work wiping down the machines.
Rick Ratt’s Fun Park had been in the area for years, serving as a destination for every child’s birthday party. A batting cage, go-karts, and a putt-putt course out back, while the arcade served as the central attraction. Rick Ratt, himself, often graced the parties, much to the chagrin of the newest hire who donned the suit. At one time, everything in the building was state of the art, but now the place was in desperate need of some love.
Edgar did his best to keep the arcade clean, but his bad back and aging body prevented him from doing more than wiping down the video game cabinets and running the vacuum over the space-themed carpet. Even so, he enjoyed his work as the closing janitor for Rick Ratt’s. It reminded him of the early days of arcades when a few quarters could provide kids with an afternoon of enjoyment. Rick Ratt’s was one of the few remaining places where games still only cost a quarter to play.
Edgar sprayed the cloth and began wiping down the first row of cabinets. A few quick swipes were all it took to remove the pizza-covered fingerprints and grease from the joysticks and buttons.
As he wiped the screen of each arcade cabinet, Edgar looked up and smiled. EGR still sat at the top of the leaderboards that scrolled by. He had the high score on every machine in the row.
Every night, Edgar ritualistically picked a game to play after completing his tasks. He kept a bag full of quarters in his locker for this purpose. Most nights he found enough quarters by checking the machines or by paying attention to the ground while vacuuming. Depending on the game, he could spend an hour on a single quarter.
He’d even seen the end of several of the games, advancing to the last remaining level. On some machines, the last levels were incomplete and corrupted due to the memory limitations in the old software. The game developers never intended the player to see these last levels. He once heard a kid call these screens “the kill screen” since the game could not progress any further and usually resulted in the game abruptly ending. Edgar’s ultimate source of pride was seeing the kill screen on several of the games in the arcade. He hoped that one day he could see each one.
Tonight was different. Edgar wouldn’t be playing a familiar game he had already mastered. Earlier that morning, a new video game had been delivered to the arcade. It still sat waiting to be unwrapped, and the honor was all his. Once he finished wiping off the other machines, Edgar pulled out a small multitool and slit the cellophane wrap protecting the machine in transit.
“Plunger Time,” he said as he read the orange and blue title across the top of the cabinet. “Never heard of it.” Excitement flooded the old man as he ran his hand over the joysticks and buttons. Another machine to put his initials on the leaderboard. He reached around back to find the power cable and plugged the machine in. His heart thumped with excitement as the machine booted up.
A small pixelated man jumped across the screen, carrying a comically large plunger. The sprite looked like the same man silhouetted on the side of the cabinet holding his plunger high above his head in victory over a tower of toilets. As the sprite crossed the screen, it used the plunger on an 8-bit toilet and pulled the name of the game out of it as it splashed across the screen in the same orange and blue type font. Edgar chuckled as the animation completed.
The screen went black. A second later, a white prompt appeared in the middle of the screen.
Enter time:
Edgar looked at his watch. He moved the joystick up until “11:15” displayed on the screen and pressed the large red button to confirm the time. Next came another screen.
AM or PM?
Edgar selected “PM,” and the game continued its boot-up sequence.
Insert Quarter:
The message flashed on the screen while the main character’s sprite bounced across a maze of piping and tubing. A white toilet appeared at the top of the stage, serving as the goal while a large monster blocked the way, hurling obstacles at the player character.
Edgar fished in his pocket and pulled out a few quarters, stacking them neatly in front of him. He slid one into the illuminated coin slot, adding a credit to the machine. He pressed the blue start button and three plungers appeared at the top of the screen. He moved the joystick to the right, moving the character across the screen. Pressing the big red button caused the sprite to jump. Immediately at home with the controls, he ascended the maze of piping and platforms.
As he neared the top, the monster unexpectedly launched a long tongue out of its mouth like a frog to a fly. As the tongue made contact with the sprite, the character caught fire, flickered, and disappeared as if it burst into ash. One of the plungers at the top of the screen disappeared, leaving only two, and the sprite appeared at the bottom of the maze once again.
Undeterred by the loss of his first life, Edgar jumped his sprite to the top again, this time prepared for the monster’s attack. When the tongue shot out, he jumped and landed on it, pinning it to the ground. Animated tears sprang from the monster’s eyes as it cried like a baby. He moved to the shining white toilet as the music celebrated his victory.
Level 2
Edgar massaged the arthritis out of his wrist and started moving the joystick. This time, small creatures appeared and threw white balls of light at the character. He lost both of his remaining lives trying to reach the top of the stage.
With his final life gone, the high score screen flashed in front of his eyes. A small smile spread over the man's face as he entered EGR on the screen, claiming the first spot on the leaderboard, but he knew this score wouldn’t last. He could do better.
He put the next quarter in the machine and started over. The first level didn’t pose a threat now that he knew what to expect, and Edgar quickly made his way to the second level. This time he was ready for the surprise attacks from the small creatures. He dodged each of their attacks and carefully made his way to the top of the stage where the same monster attacked as it did in the first level. He jumped on the tongue and proceeded to the third level.
He continued this way for several levels, each providing a new challenge for Edgar. He restarted a few times; each time, he progressed further than the last. The game had sunk its teeth into him, and he was hooked. His initials filled the leaderboard with one spot left. He looked at his watch, a few minutes before midnight. He still had it in him to play one more game. He put his last quarter into the machine and started again.
By now the first several levels were a breeze for the janitor. He made it to level thirteen without losing a life. The furthest he had been all night. He was so focused on the game that he didn’t notice the small countdown clock in the upper left corner of the screen that started counting backward from sixty.
Once the countdown hit zero, the screen went abruptly black as if the power cord had been yanked out of its electrical socket. Edgar checked the power, but the machine was still plugged in. He looked at it, confused and angry that he lost his progress. He slapped the side of the machine to wake it up. The screen warmed to a deep red as 12:00 glowed brightly across the middle.
A low hum came from deep in the machine while static and indistinguishable sounds came from the speakers. They seemed like voices screaming out among the static. Edgar leaned in, trying to hear what the voices were screaming.
Suddenly the screen dropped, revealing a fleshy pit beyond. An enormous oozing appendage sprang out of the screen and wrapped itself around Edgar’s midsection, pinning his arms to his side. The appendage dripped with slime that burned wherever it made contact with his exposed skin.
Edgar screamed as conical teeth descended from the top of the cabinet, turning it into a gaping maw. Edgar’s eyes went wide in panic as he realized the appendage constricting his midsection was the tongue of the creature in the game.
The more Edgar struggled, the tighter the tongue squeezed around his body. It began to pull him into the arcade cabinet. He put a foot against the cabinet to push himself away, but his strength was quickly leaving his aging body. The tongue held firmly. It wasn’t letting him go. The burning intensified as more ooze dripped onto Edgar’s body.
The tongue’s grip tightened. Somewhere inside his body, Edgar felt a rib snap, forcing out his last breath. It wouldn’t be long now. Now, instead of staring at the flickering light of the screen, all he could do was stare into the depths of the open mouth.
Edgar’s last sensations were the feeling of his feet lifting off the ground as his body plunged into the burning darkness now enveloping him. Soon, he felt nothing more as his body accepted its inevitable fate, consumed by the game.
The previous owners of the game tried to warn him, but in his excitement, he neglected to notice the warning on the back of the machine. Had Edgar heeded the warning label on the back of the machine, he would have known not to play the game after midnight. Instead, he became consumed by the very game he spent the evening devouring.
*Click the link below to purchase your own model of Plunger Time, but be sure to read all the warnings*