Looks like Bungie went and hired another new jackass to glad-hand you whelps. Let me tell you something, this new guy is soft on idiocy. He also seems to think that Bungie.net isn’t good enough for keeping the Seventh Column under control.
As I wrapped my fist around his scrawny neck, he whimpered something about world domination and a tactical need to leave home from time to time. That made a fair amount of sense, so I went and had a look-see for myself. Guess what I found?
Facebook and Twitter.
Don’t think you can fool me for one second with this babe in the woods routine. We never kicked an ass that didn’t beg for it, and from what I can tell you’re quite eager to prostrate yourself online. That said, we don’t mete out the justice in Halo anymore. Go bark up someone else’s tree, huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.
I like eating small insects that I find in my pelt, but that’s not something you wanted to know either.
TJ and James, James and TJ,
Saying that we’re working on the next Call of Duty is like saying you two Shakespearean fellows are writing yourselves a play. We all know that’s just not happening.
One part of me wonders if posting to our Facebook page indicates that you do, in fact, care to some degree. Then again, given your flagrant abuse of punctuation, I also wonder if those letters coincidentally formed words when you mashed your face against the keyboard. If not, please do us all a favor and employ this method from here on out.
You make it sound like we all went down in flames in a plane crash. That can’t be true. If that happened, who keeps stocking the fridge with hooch?
I’ve got a trade for you. If you are willing to stay as far away from our Facebook page as possible, I will pay your enrollment fee for a competitive multiplayer event I think you will love. It’s called a spelling bee.
You’ll also be the first one they find in the cmment under my crawlspace.
I’m your biggest fan. Please send me a Blu-ray copy of Hot Tub Time Machine and a case of beer. You can send it bulk if you want to save on shipping, just make sure you pack the booze in dry ice.
You, your friend, and those four other players who shouldn’t be listening to you should camp out the lobby at Microsoft headquarters and demand an answer. Or, go outside for an hour.
Speaking of families, your mom has asked me to tell you not to kiss her with that mouth anymore. Also, she won’t be home for dinner. There should be a Hot Pocket in the freezer.
Do you really think that would do it? Because we have an appointment with a tattoo artist next week who is coming into the studio to scribble it onto our foreheads with a hot needle.