You grab the javelin. It feels good in your hands as you throw it with all your might. The rod travels through the old monk, sending him flying to the ground. Chad vomits all over himself from the image, but years of internet usage has left you numb. You pull the javelin out and head back towards the main street. Five police officers stop you. Sweat begins to gather on your forehead until one reaches his hand out for a handshake. "Congratulations." He says. For your participation in the extermination of an ancient religious sect, the Chinese government wants to reward you. You can have anything you want.
"I want a girlfriend." You quickly say. No.
"I want to be in the Olympics." No.
"I want a Hanzo Samurai Sword." No. That's Japanese anyway.
"Well, erm, could I have a 50inch Sony TV?" Okay.
"With 1080p HD?" No.
Congratulations on your new television, too bad you won't be able to compete in the Olympics or watch Ratatouille on Blu-ray.
Your lair. Maybe you lure victims to it, maybe you hide in it between killings, or maybe you haunt it 24/7 because you’re tragically confined by a curse. Whatever the situation, for most of us monsters, a living/un-living space is an important part of our identities. In this column, Monstergeddon award winners share their lair tips and techniques!
Works great on my child, who hasn't barked at all for as long as she's worn the apparatus. When she turns three, we will remove it for a trial period.
The famed gonzo otaku journalist writes about the death of gaming culture in 2014.
Try not to break your console while I try not to break my cyber brain.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.