"Sir, I... I don't know to give change for a 'gimme'" âSir, I canât do that. We have no authority over the local retailers. But we can get you a new one. Just tell me your address, and weâll send you a pre-paid shipping label, then pack up your system and mail it to us. In three to four weeks, weâll send you a repaired unit!â âThree to four whats?! WHATS?!â âWeeks, sir,â she answered. âWeeks?! I donât even know what those are! Iâm sorry, I donât speak incompetent bitch. Youâll have to explain your fascinating, bizarre language to me. Iâm not familiar with your culture. Tell me of your rich heritage of incompetence and bitchery, sing to me your native fucking idiot songs-â âSir, I-â âPAINT ME A TAPESTRY SO THAT I MIGHT EXPERIENCE THE BEAUTIFUL ART OF THE INCOMPETENT BITCH PEOPLE.â âGood god, sir!â
The two gators represent luck and misfortune, while the sun-spear idol represents what a tragically ineffective bitch you are. âYou will give me video games right now!â I demanded, standing on the dining room table and pounding my fists on the ceiling, like a completely reasonable person. âSir, the best I can do is two to four weeks, but I assure you it is free of charge. Weâre very sorry thatââ âGod, shut up. Your mouth is like my motherâs vagina.â âI donâtâ¦ I donât understandâ¦â âItâs just a hole that disappointments come out of.â âOh god, I donât know if Iâm offended, disgusted or sorry for you.â âThatâs what she said.â âThat is what I said,â she said. âGoddammit, donât tell me what you said: If I wanted to know your opinion, Iâd beat it out of you.â
Pictured: A public opinion survey. âDidnât you just tell me not to take the Lordâs name in vain?â âDonât tell me what I said, either! Listen: OK. Letâs take a step back here.â âOh, yes! Yes, letâs do that sir.â âYeah, actually I need to take two or three steps back to get enough room TO JUMPKICK THIS PHONE.â I didnât hear her rebuttal at that point, because I bought some stupid piece of shit Japanese phone that canât even take a measly jumpkick, but I got the feeling the situation was not going to be resolved to my liking--considering that âmy likingâ involved significantly more fire than HR was likely comfortable with. No, there was no point relying on Microsoft--the same people that engineered (and kept manufacturing systems with) the problem--to fix it again. What was I supposed to do? They had a monopoly on murder simulation. I couldnât buy a Wii because Iâm not a child molester, and I canât game on the PC because I canât do advanced physics calculations in my head.
"...so you just carry the video card and multiply by the number of DivX's and then... just fuck it: Go play Nintendo." But waitâ¦ werenât there rumors? Hushed whispers in seedy back alleys about a competitor for the Xbox. Some washed up old hack who used to be king, and was now supposedly coming back to the fight with something to prove, like the console equivalent of Rocky? That's right! The Playstation 3! There were alternatives, no matter how unseemly. I hadnât emptied my Swear Jar in nearly a week, so I grabbed two fistfuls of 20s from it and sprinted out my front door, down the street. *** Navigating the sea of anachronistic nerds that always occupy the local game store (seriously, guys, where do you come from? I havenât seen a nerd in real life since 1992, and I think that mightâve been a Halloween costume), I grabbed a dusty, long-forgotten PS3 box from the haphazard pile in the alley behind the store and made my way back to the checkout stand.