Cursed Swipes: Wildebyte Arcades, #6

Cursed Swipes

A playful story from the Handheld Disk

Tiamo Pastoor

Tiamo Pastoor

2025-02-12

© 2025 Tiamo Pastoor; All rights reserved.

Cursed Swipes

Design Lesson Hidden

A Tempting Offer

Too Many Planets

The Lone Cat

Galaxy Tourists

Deadly Indecision

A Mysterious Member

Lion’s Den

No Math Genius

Calculated Changes

The Great Disaster

An Important Conversation

Skull Signal

The Abandoned Game

Out Of Game Experience

Cursed Swipes

Pile of Passwords

What Can I Say

The Play Palace

Friendly Twinplanets

Gift of Knowledge

A Legend Born

Portal Protectors

Hope Is All We Have

The Fuzzy Game

Design Lesson Revealed

Afterparty

About the game

Angry Birds

Clone? Stealing?

Free-to-play

Why are we talking about this?

About the author

Title Page

Cover

Table of Contents

Design Lesson Hidden

A Tempting Offer

As Sweettooth and I land inside a cozy town, we’re immediately attacked by cats raining from the sky. They’re not angry. They’re not vicious. But they still hurt and destroy wooden structure after wooden structure.

Pirate Sweettooth flashes his sword to cut through a cat. The lucky beast already vanishes before contact. I roar and grab hold of a cute kitten with my tail, but she doesn’t care that an enemy has her. She puffs out of my grasp too. No, not a puff, more of a laser zap.

We look around. The entire town is rapidly destroyed by cats from the sky. Sure, we were prepared for this when we entered a game called Catapult Cats. But …

I was kinda hoping we would be on the side of the cats, you know?

Nah. Look at them, says Sweettooth. He dances around the falling felines, who show no emotion at all. They be having no fun.

"Yeah, sure, because those poor mice are having fun."

I point at the inhabitants of what used to be a town. Countless mice run around, trying to salvage what they can of their homes. Did I say run? No, of course not, because none of them have any limbs. I’d describe it as hopping around, but even that feels wrong.

Some mice are still inside their home. As soon as a cat hits those wooden blocks, that house instantly disappears. And as soon as those mice hit the floor, they die too.

I have to remind myself they’re just code, and I am inside a game. They are not real. Still, it’s a scary sight.

And I don’t know if the mice are having fun, because all that is masked by anger. The mice show their sharp teeth and turn their tails into pointy zigzags. I don’t think I’ve ever seen mice this furious, this large and powerful, and it almost—almost—hands them victory.

They rebuild a few homes and kick out the cats, but a final bombardment of enemies includes a cat on fire. All the homes burn down. They must admit defeat and retreat into the safety of nearby hills.

Until we’re the only ones left in the village.

Well, it’s us and the only animal that’s not a mouse or cat. A mystical, glowing space slug frowns at us. Without even looking at the sky, they step aside just before a cat would knock them out. Without even looking behind them, they dodge a wooden burning pillar that was about to fall on them.

Not the best strategy, they mumble, standing still in the middle of a burning village. But if it works for you, it works.

Wait, why did I say space slug?

This isn’t an island, or a nice forest, or a village by a river. We are on a tiny, tiny planet. Or should I say a … mice moon.

A faint force field around the planet keeps us alive, separated from the cold and emptiness of space. Apparently, it does not keep out cats.

A few stars are pulled from the blackness of space and brought much closer. They attach to the force field and display that the cats scored three stars on this attempt. A great score. The best, even. Better than their previous attempt, it says in tiny letters underneath the score. Still the final cats display no emotion as they are automatically zapped away.

So … does this happen often? I ask.

Yes, responds the slug. And it will happen again. Tomorrow at noon, to be precise.

I expected her to move in the normal way. You know, sliding over the floor, leaving a slimy trail. Instead she moves in little hops. After studying it for a while, I realize that’s how the limbless mice move too. Instead of taking steps, they launch themselves short distances, as if from a catapult.

Of course! When Sweettooth and I try to move, we must follow the same rules. We must aim and then launch ourselves a little further. At least we can move quickly this way.

The mice come out of the hills to start rebuilding the place. Though rebuild is a strong word. A new town has to be built from the ashes and rubble. A few mice hold large blueprints, and they select one for each home.

The slug was the only one smart enough to build a home in the hills. One to which she happily returns.

Wait, I say. So you can predict the future?

The space slug smiles and nods.

I frown. "So you know the attacks come and you still don’t defend against it?"

What could we do? she says. Her antennae flail as if a heavy wind were blowing. Against a hundred enemies who fall from the sky? In any way, at any position?

She be a very empty-skulled fortune teller, aye, adds Sweettooth.

The slug turns red, nostrils flaring. "Watch your mouth, little man! I can predict the future perfectly!"

So you also knew he was going to say that, I wisecrack, "and still you get angry about it? That does sound empty—"

She turns purple now, pushing her face uncomfortably close to mine. "Predicting comes at a cost. I’m not willing to pay the cost all the time. The poor mice can’t pay it."

Alright. Could you predict where I’ll find my Lost Memory?

When I landed inside this device—a world called Ludra—my memories of my real life were scattered. In the last game, my Lost Memory was destroyed. A tiny piece of my actual life that might have made me happy or given me a way out. Shown me who my parents are, or my friends, or who I am.

I don’t intend to let that happen again.

She returns to her usual green and turquoise color scheme.

Of course I can.

Sweettooth shakes his head and launches himself away to talk with the mice. Too bad we can only launch very short distances, or we’d be able to visit the other planets I see in the distance.

Then what’s the cost?

You will not like it, Wildebyte.

Just tell me, I insist.

She starts crying. For herself? Or for me? "You can pay by giving up your Lost Memories. The ones you already collected. Such a payment, yes, would allow me to see very far into the future."

My—all my—no! You’re not getting any of my memories! It’s all I have left!

How dare she? Surely it’s just a trick because she also hates the Wildebyte.

I decline!

I try to make a dramatic exit, but fail to steer properly and launch myself into a rock. She laughs and helps me up, which just makes me more angry. Really really angry. Now that I think about it, I’ve been angry ever since I landed here.

I can already predict the future! I scream at her. "It’s called logical thinking. It’s using your brain. Maybe you should try it once!"

She turns red again, puffs, then turns around to enter her small hut. The door shuts with a pretty definitive boom.

Sweettooth returns with a few mice on his shoulders. While you be insulting slugs, I be talking to these little critters. Hear what they have to say.

This is one of our last remaining planets, a tiny gray mouse squeaks. If all of them are destroyed …

I am so ANGRY, another mouse yells.

The others applaud him for this display of furiousness. One tells him the thick eyebrows are a nice touch. As he explains how angry he is, numbers appear around his body, as if he’s scoring points for doing so.

I am … I am … SEVERELY DISAPPOINTED, a smaller white mouse adds.

This gets a lukewarm reception and mice telling him to get good. He creates some floating numbers too, but they’re far lower.

Mice culture is weird.

Anyway, the tiny mouse says, a pink ribbon on their head. This can’t be how the game is supposed to be played. Once everything is broken and turned to ash, the game will just … stop? Stop having a goal? Stop being fun? And we all know what happens then.

They shiver. Yeah, it’d mean an uninstall, deletion for all.

"So how is the game supposed to be played? I ask. Where did it go wrong?"

You should ask the manager, they say.

I should … is this a joke?

No, really, the tiny mouse insists. "The Manager created this game and all the planets and rules. But a long time ago … they mysteriously disappeared. All they left behind is that."

The mice—and the space slug—point at a blue dome that survived the entire attack. They point with their ears or tails, as they still lack limbs. The dome seems electrically charged, creating tiny thunderstrokes and sparks against the force field. As we hop closer, I realize it doesn’t have so much as a scratch. The entire area is broken and burned, but this alien-looking dome seems brand new.

How do we open it? I ask.

We don’t. The Manager locked it and it can only be opened by swiping their tail over the lock.

Hmm. Maybe if I …

I come closer to touch the dome. If I could look inside, look at its code, maybe I can just force it to open. Perhaps there’s a boolean somewhere called unlocked and I can just change it from false to true.

I launch myself into the dome and grab the slick surface with my tail.

Before I even get a good look at the code, the dome rumbles and shakes, then blasts me away. A painful electric charge creeps through my mice body.

I land facedown in a pile of rubble. Oh broken buttons. This thing must have a defense mechanism to keep out entities like me. To keep people from messing with it in unauthorized ways.

"Well, I saw that coming," says the slug.

I bet you did, I mumble angrily.

But the rumbling doesn’t stop. I triggered a defense mechanism badly.

All the mice scream and launch themselves away. A ball of light envelops the dome and a blast of energy travels across the entire tiny planet. Which is really more like a small rock.

When I look back, the entire town and the dome are gone.

A slug looms over me, a satisfied look on her face. Ready to take my offer now?

Too Many Planets

To nobody’s surprise, the mice are angry with me. Or severely disappointed. Some mildly inconvenienced. They all applaud each other for finding new ways to explain how angry they are, as more numbers appear around them.

But nobody likes me, that’s for sure.

As I prepare to say how sorry I am, however, Sweettooth covers for me.

It be a trail! If we keep following the teleporting domes, we will find your legendary founder! And we can finally speak to The Manager!

Sounds plausible. See, this is why I wanted him to Gamewalk with me. Until this game, I had been traveling alone, because I was the only one who could jump between games. But then I found and convinced Sweettooth. And I’m still not sure if it was a good idea.

I be looking for a team, he continues. "Aye, have you ever considered … attacking the cats