Roger hears his father’s heavy footsteps sneaking out the back door at around two in the morning. His little heart beats as he flings his dinosaur sheets off, scrambles into his pajama bottoms, and runs to the living room. He catches his father on the back porch, climbing onto the back of a violet motorcycle. The stone-faced drunk regards his son like a stranger. Roger beams in the presence of his role model.

“Go back to bed,” he says, kicking his motorcycle into first gear. It rumbles loud and proud, wakes the neighbors.

“Dad, when will we be a family again?” Roger asks.

His father laughs. “Jeez, that’s a good one. I’d say… when Duke Nukem Forever comes out.”

And with that, he’s on his way. His headlight blinds Roger momentarily and then he disappears around the block, leaving a wake of angry dogs barking in the yards around them. This is what his father does. Disappears. He might not see him again for another year. That’s the way it always has been, but, Roger hopes, not the way it has to be foever.

The whole Duke Nukem Forever thing was just a little joke, but the idea turns over and over in Roger’s head. He lies on the couch all night, stares at the ceiling, wishing and hoping that Duke Nukem Forever sticks to a release date and finds its way to the shelves of a Best Buy near him.

Please, God. Please let Duke Nukem Forever come out. That’s the only way I’ll ever have a real family, like you and Jesus have.

Rogers on the right track. It would take God’s divine intervention to save something so troubled. For over a decade, Duke Nukem Forever has been on the cusp of being an overhyped, mediocre release. When it was first announced, it seemed like the natural improvement on a winning franchise. Then development stopped and started at least a dozen times over the decade – with money spent wantonly, and a team with a carousel roster – that it became glaringly apparent that things were not right at 3D Realms. Finally, this past year, the project was abandoned completely. Duke Nukem Forever was dead.

The next day, Roger skips school early to hang out at the local video game store with his best friend J.P., who just happens to be black. The two are in the midst of browsing through games they could never hope to afford when the attendant, an older man with wispy white hair, offers them a glimpse at the pre-order form for – wouldn’t you know it? – Duke Nukem Forever.

“Shelved, you think?” The attendant says with an unearthly glimmer in his eye. “That’s not what I hear! I hear that Broussard is staying up long nights at his computer, feverishly typing in code, as if being held upright by a pair of unseen hands. So, please, write your name on this pre-order form!”

This news is too much for Roger to handle. He bounces around the room, shouting at the top of his lungs that there is a God, and that he is good for listening to his prayers, no matter how strange they may seem.

“You should read the production blog,” the attendant continues. “They’re all permanently amped on Monster Energy drink. It’s like someone is injecting it straight into their bloodstream without them knowing it!”

Roger takes to the streets, preaching the good word. It’s time to reserve your copy of Duke Nukem Forever! he screams at the kids in line for hot lunches. Get them before they sell out!

And wouldn’t you know it, it works. The team at 3D Realms get their shit together in a way that can only be described as an honest-to-God miracle. They stop nitpicking details that don’t matter, somehow convince their backers to fill their coffers, and churn out a product that is fresher than recent games that aren’t based on outdated and somewhat retarded franchises.

On the day the Duke Nukem Forever hits the streets, Roger sits on the front porch of his house, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his father. He spends all day out there, and some of the night, before his mother calls him in for dinner. He drags himself to the dining room table and sits there, shocked that things turned out the way they did, completely oblivious to the fact that his father had died of a heroin overdose in a Memphis hotel room two weeks earlier. He stirs his peas and sighs.

The team at 3D Realms make millions. It doesn’t make a dent in their costs.