In this week's issue of Newsweek, we wrote a short piece titled "Wii Plays Hard To Get" examining why Nintendo's newest console is in such short supply. As any journalist can tell you, there's often a good deal of interesting reporting that gets cut or left out. So today, we're launching Expansion Pack, an occasional feature that will bring you some of those cutting floor nuggets from the stories that we write for the print version of Newsweek. First up: Tom Lee, the 26-year-old software designer and blogger whose worldwide search for a Wii led off our story, tells us in his own words how being the sole owner of this new machine has changed both he and his circle of friends.

There are two primary ways that friends use to weasel their way into spending some time with my Wii. If they're close friends, pretense can be used. "L" had plans to cook a dinner for a bunch of friends, and had considered, then rejected my apartment as a possible location for the meal. Then the Wii arrived, and suddenly his kitchen seemed smaller.

The other route--the thinly-veiled self-invite--is employed by people that I see less frequently. "F" sent a ironically self-aware email joking about how boorish it must be to have people inviting themselves over--but seriously, what nights were open? I don't mind either approach; I love playing the Wii too, after all.

Once folks arrive--and especially before we were able to find a second controller--my role became that of a tour guide. "You should really create a Mii," I'll suggest, before guiding them through the process. Then, like Socrates, I slowly lead them through a journey of Wii self-discovery. Bowling is usually the best way to start, since it's simple and everyone can play. If they're interested in baseball or golf we might waste a little time there. But the process culminates in either boxing or (especially) tennis, which most people think are the most fun. By the end someone is invariably sweating bullets or making semi-serious jokes about being sore the next day.

Finally, we switch to the Rayman game, play a few mini-games and people make their exits. I don't mean for it to wrap up that way, but my guests seem to view the act of changing discs as the equivalent of the host of a dinner party starting to talk about what an early day he's got tomorrow.