My name is Marco.

But you can call me “Marco the Mighty.” Or “Most Exalted Destroyer of My Pride.” You can cower before my mighty thumbs and beg for mercy, but you’ll be crushed just the same.

For I am the lord of the PlayStation.

Pick a game. Any game. Tekken. Duke Nukem. NFL Blitz. Whatever. Practice all you want. I’ll still beat you. I’ll crush you like Doc Martens crush ants.

A bit dated, but not terribly so. I do like Marco’s points of view.

Of course, then things go wrong (otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a book, now would there?):

My arms! They weren’t becoming wings! What was happening? I felt them stretching out in front of me. The skin on my hands turning brittle, like armor. Fingers merging, becoming two barbed claws.

Something was wrong!

My face . . .

A pinprick on each cheek! Two long whisker-like hairs sprouted outward. Instinctively, I swept them in front of me, gauging the wind, the temperature, sensing my surroundings.

Antennae? Birds don’t have antennae!

Dim eyes. Pincers. Antennae.

Lobster?

I was half-osprey, half-lobster?

A useless combination of mismatched parts.

It’s a standard ‘discover a high powered Yeerk that’s going to ruin everyone’s day, so let’s take him down’ sort of plot. This time with more TV personalities. And a secondary plot of Macro’s dad moving on, which–given the storyline of The Conspiracy and the upcoming VISSER–is complicated at best.

<Ooookay,> Jake replied. <That could have gone better. Guess it’s time for Plan B.>

<Someday when this is all over people will ask us about the war against the Yeerks,> Tobias said. <Let’s leave this part out>

Another good one.

Especially with…

“Marco, if you’re there, pick up.”

My mother.

To be continued in . . . Visser

Side note, it’s kind of silly how clueless Ax is when it comes to human culture sometimes… but it does lead to some wonderful dialog:

“Didn’t he write all those Men Are from Jupiter, Women Are from Venus books?” Jake asked.

<I do not believe either Jupiter or Venus are inhabitable, certainly not by humans,> Ax said.

“Mars, not Jupiter,” Cassie corrected.

“Actually, some guys are from Uranus,” Rachel said. Then she made a face. “Did I just say that? I’m spending too much time around you, Marco.”

Also:

<Self-help books?> Ax asked. <Are they similar to instruction manuals?>

<Not exactly, Ax-man,> Tobias said.

<Indeed? Instructions for living? Such as “Consume necessary nutrients”? “Breathe sufficient air”?>

“Hey! Ax just made a joke.”

<I did?>