Me: Now that we’re starting the third game, we’re going to have an opportunity to change what you look like.

Mom: Thank God. Can we get new clothes too?

Me: Not right away, but yeah.

Mom: Finally. Alright step one get rid of that awful hairdo.

Me: Alright, let me cycle through the options to see if you like any of these.

Mom: Ugh, why are these all so short? Why can’t I have long hair?

Me: We’ve been over this. You’re a soldier that sees a lot of combat. Long hair is tactically disadvantageous.

Mom: I thought you said I was in jail!

Me: Well, yeah, but—

Mom: Why am I in jail anyway?

Me: Oh gee, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of all those people you killed?

Mom: Hey.

Me: Do you know how long it took me to type that post tallying all the people that died because of you?

Mom: Wah wah wah. Alright, I guess gimme that short, curly-looking hair.

Me: Alright.

Mom: She got her head shaved when she was put in the clink and that’s all the more it’s grown back.

Me: Sure, why not. Alright, anything else you want to change?

Mom: Hell yeah, make me less ugly.

Me: Okay… anything in specific?

Dad: Everything. 

Mom: [Dad], you make tell him how to make her look.

Dad: Okay… make her eyebrows lower.

Me: Alright.

Dad: Lower than that.

Me: They don’t go any lower. Do you want me to make the eyes higher?

Dad: Sure, and move them closer together.

Mom: She looks cross-eyed now!

Dad: Uh… what does the cheekbone thing do?

I move the slider back and forth.

Dad: I don’t see anything happening.

Me: It’s subtle but her cheekbones are becoming more or less pronounced.

Dad: If you say so. Jeez, I’m just making this worse. She needs a cute button nose. Is there an upturned nose?

Me: Yeah, here we go.

Dad: Oh god, now she just looks like a pig. What about her chin? It needs to be narrower. That’s the narrowest it can go? Okay, um… yeesh.

Me: Y’know, the idea is to make her look kind of like mom.

Dad: Yikes. Yeah, I failed. I’ll let you two figure it out.

I reset it back to our imported face. I change the hairstyle and eye color and move on.

After an embarrassing display, I finally break through the army of husks and into the area beyond. We manage to secure the IFF, and now the only thing left to do is blow up the Reaper’s core do disable its forcefields.

The mysterious talking Geth is already in the reactor room, working on a console. It attempts to fight off the Husks closing in on it but it’s soon overwhelmed.

Dad: Maybe it WAS aiming for you before and it’s just a really bad shot.

Proceeding through the next area, I get cornered by a Scion and some Abominations and get killed. Mom is displeased.

I reload and try again, but once again make a mistake and get killed.

Mom: You really suck at this game.

Me: Shush!

This time, I cloak and try to bypass all the enemies and hack the door. Cloak ends up running out right between two Scions and I die again.

Dad: How many tries do you get?

Me: As many as I want. There’s no lives or anything.

Mom: Good, you need a lot of tries.

Me: This is one of the hardest parts in the game!

Mom: I don’t want to hear it.

As a flailing effort to retain my Gamer Cred I feel compelled to tell you that I’ve beaten the Derelict Reaper on Insanity with a Vanguard in a single attempt.

We head deeper into the derelict Reaper. A Geth is positioned with a sniper rifle and we’re in its sights.

Mom: You’re getting me killed again!

The Geth adjusts its aim at the last second and shoots a Husk behind us.

Dad: No, see, he’s helping you.

Mom: Oh.

Before heading for the derelict Reaper, we decide to check in on Jacob. He’s in a sober mood after the experience on the Collector ship. We talk with him about what happened with his father, and he tells us to forget about it, that he’d rather focus on the present, like us or the mission.

Mom: Tell me more about me.

Jacob laughs. He’s attracted to us, but doesn’t want anything serious. He’s looking for a casual fling.

Mom: …Why would I want anything serious?

Mom cements her relationship with Jacob and I am secretly sad that she didn’t screw up two romances in a row.

Dad: Tell him that you want him to touch your boob.

We gather the crew in the meeting room to discuss what we’ve learned about the dead Reaper. Miranda takes her position at Shepard’s right hand.

Mom: What the hell is she doing here.

Me: She’s still your first officer.

Mom: She’s a bitch.

EDI’s data-mining reveals that the Collector homeworld is located in the galactic core, a hazardous, chaotic zone filled with black holes and exploding suns. Extreme precision will be needed to go there without instantly being killed. We’re now faced with a choice: keep building our team, or set out to get the IFF.

Mom: We’re ready, let’s do this.

Miranda thinks that we should take as much time as possible to prepare.

Mom: Who told her she could talk? Hey bitch, the sewer called! They want their whore back!

Dad: Is that Michael Jackson?

Mom: Oh my God she does look like Michael Jackson!

Dad: You should tell her to beat it

Mom: It’s black, it’s white.

They continue in this manner for about three minutes.

Me: Are you two finished?

Mom: Yeah, yeah fine.

Me: So do you want to go after the IFF or continue preparing like Miranda wants?

Mom: Whatever Miranda wants, I want to do the opposite.

We link up with the Illusive Man to give him a piece of our minds for luring us into a trap.

…Well, no we don’t. Mom doesn’t care. We link up with him because that’s the thing that happens next.

Dad: What’s wrong with that guy’s eyes?

Me: He’s got robot-ey—

Mom: He’s stoned. See the joint he’s got?

Dad: He’s smokin’ a doobie.

Mom turns to me.

Mom: Told you.

The Illusive Man explains that EDI has learned how the Collectors use the Omega-4 Relay. They have a special piece of IFF software that, when detected by the relay, activates advanced travel protocols. He tells us about a dead reaper currently orbiting a brown dwarf, from which we should be able to extract the IFF software.

Dad: Brown dwarf? Like a poop?

Mom: Yeah!

Dad: That guy should eat more fiber if he’s worried about brown dwarves.

Mom: He smokes all his fiber.

Now, all krogan bear the genophage. Our reward, our curse. It is a fight where the only goal is survival!

While fighting the Thresher Maw, I have to pause to go to the kitchen and help Dad find the mixer.

I watch as he puts not only vanilla ice cream and chocolate pudding, but half a package of crushed-up Oreos and two packets of hot chocolate mix into a bowl. At that point he tells me to go away so God knows what else he put in before he started mixing it all up.

He comes up with a pitcher of light brown liquid as I’m finishing off the Thresher Maw.

Dad: Okay, who wants some.

Mom: That’s a brand-new pitcher! It’s supposed to be for margaritas!

Dad: Yeah, well, today it was for ice cream and pudding.

Mom begrudgingly tries some.

Mom: …It’s actually pretty good.

Then the krogan were lifted to the stars, to destroy the fears of a galaxy! An enemy only we could chase to their lair!

Dad gets up to go make his… “Frostee,” only to discover that at some point a piece of chewing gum managed to fall out of his mouth and onto his back (???), sticking him to his chair.

We’re instructed to wait at the keystone, and survive whatever is thrown at us.

First the krogan conquered Tuchanka, and mastered a natural world only we are fit to rule!

Dad: Honey, have we unpacked a mixer yet?

Mom: Y… yes, why?

Dad: I want to make a Frostee.

Mom: What with like, ice cream and milk?

Me: We don’t have any milk.

Dad: I’m gonna mix some vanilla ice cream with chocolate pudding.

Mom: …If… you really have to, then yes, the mixer’s in the closet.