The man approaches the car. The doors locked. You glance up and see him staring at you. You wave your hand in a friendly manner before looking back down. Maybe he will leave me alone. You look up again.
He is right outside your window, motioning you to roll down your window.
You look at him and contemplate whether to obey. On his arm you see a tattoo of a dragon flying through a skull. You look down and see the exact image on your t-shirt. Holy shit, he'll love this you think as you start rolling down your window.
Once the window is down you try and tell him the coincidence, but you're interrupted by him stabbing you in the face.
"Oh, fuck'n awesome shirt." He says as he peels it off your dead body.
GAME OVER. YOU DIED AND LOST YOUR FAVORITE SHIRT
This libtard terminator keeps asking for guns that don't exist and I may have to close early out of frustration.
Editor's Note: Due to a freak power outage, this obituary of Barbara Bush was written without the benefit of research. In order to pay our respects to this great woman in a timely fashion, we have decided to post this piece as-is. We hope you forgive any errors on our part.
My game is funded. Now I know everything.
Sea of Thieves: Reduced the number of quest types from 3 to 2
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.