Yep. You got it. Candy Crush.
You now fall into one of two camps. A) you are scratching your head and saying “what is she on about now?!” ; or B) You are punching the air and going “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Sodding Candy Crush”.
That damned game on Facebook that sucks you in. You think it is easy to clear the jelly, they make the first few levels easy. They get you hooked. And before you know it there are more layers of jelly. Jelly in licorice cages. Chocolate. Holes you can’t get round. Chocolate jazzies that fire off in all directions. Sweets that fall next to each other and explode. Stripy sweets that clear a row. Clear jelly. Solid jelly. Jelly on top of jelly.
I am on a level now that has chocolate creeping up the screen. UP. How can I get to the sweets under the chocolate?
Pictures of unicorns and rainbows. It’s like I am high on LSD.
Are you in the Chocolate Mountains or the Lemonade Lake. Or even the Minty Meadow?
You stop talking to the friends on Facebook that don’t play. They can’t send you a life. They are worthless to you now.
Lives begged for. Making a note of who you have asked for a life. Who has sent you one. Who you silently thank for resuscitating you to live another level.
Messages saying “sorry you did not clear all the jelly”
Pop ups telling you that there are no lives left and that you have to wait eighteen minutes for another one.
I can’t wait eighteen minutes. I need to clear that level now.
Even though you are now in bed. Wanting to go to sleep. You keep refreshing. In the hope somebody has sent you a life and you can have one more go before you turn the lights out.
Or you have been saving lives and before you know it it is 2am.
Before you know it you are hooked. You wake up thinking “I will just have one go”. Convinced you will clear that level on the next attempt. You see the number of moves decreasing. There are only three bits of jelly left, you have five moves left. You sit and work out that if the greens go from there the reds will move across and BOOM they will drop. But you didn’t see the oranges the other side that have blocked the path.
You suddenly have one move left and two bits of jelly.
In opposite corners on the bottom row. It’s like a bum split in ten pin bowling.
You look at it for ten minutes, convinced there is a way
Then finally make your move.
“You did not clear all the jelly”
And now you are late for work / the dinner is burnt / the dog is whining / you missed your bus.
Candy Crush. It’s the new middle England crack.