Home > Bitching, Depressing, Nostalgia > The Time My Tamagotchi Died

The Time My Tamagotchi Died

February 17, 2012 Leave a comment Go to comments

So, remember Tamagotchis? Maybe you were a parent with a pre-teen who wanted one of these electronic eggs so much they would just DIE without one. Maybe you were one of those kids lucky enough to snag one. Maybe you weren’t even born in 1996 and don’t give a shit.

Regardless, in case you’re not in the know, a Tamagotchi was this little egg-like contraption that you could carry on a keychain. Inside lived a tiny pixelated creature that grew, ate, pooped, made weird noises, etc. They were all the rage in the ’90s, and my cousin and I won ours via an arcade game at King’s Island, my local amusement park.

You had to babysit your little creature, which meant giving it medicine if it got sick, or yelling at it if it did something wrong. You had to play with it at regular intervals to keep it happy, and even turn out the lights occasionally so it wouldn’t die from lack of sleep.

Yes, your Tamagotchi can die. Though common causes of death included old age or starvation, my pets always only died for one reason.

Burial under a poop pyramid.

You see, every time your animal went to the bathroom, you had to clean up the digital steaming pile of poo. But the damn thing would poop every three minutes or something, so in no time at all, the screen would be a writhing mass of stinking feces, your pet struggling to breathe in the background. Fail to hit the “toilet” button fast enough, and your pet would expire and be replaced by a floating angel. Their death is on your hands, and you are no better than a dog owner who deposited a truckload of human waste on Fido, then walked away.

My Tamagotchi made me feel like an asshole on a daily basis until I finally just took out its batteries. I couldn’t handle that kind of pressure.

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