Friday, 26 June 2015
(SATIRE) Indie game developer's curse on all gamers has limited impact on gamer mortality rate
Trigger Warning: The 50 post anniversary cake is a lie
A Belgian indie games developer who cursed all gamers to die in agony has admitted that their malediction had little if any impact on gamer mortality rates.
The curse which rippled unnoticed across the nethersphere and was later reproduced in a two-part tweet on Twitter reads: “Goodbye, gamers! May you die in the same agony that you caused to thousands of defenceless virtual creatures. FUCK GAMERS! FUCK THE GAME INDUSTRY! DIE! DIE!DIE! And rot in hell!”
It is believed to be a reaction by the developer - Tale of Tales - to disappointing sales of their game Sunset, in which the player took on the role of a housemaid to a south American dictator during the 1970s.
“I have to admit when I read the incantation my blood ran cold...” said avid gamer and occasional shitposter, Niles.
“...I've lost count of the hours I've spent mocking Tale of Tales' ludicrous 1970s housework simulator. You just never expect retaliation from small developers. Tale of Tales went full-Neeson on gamers sentencing us all to die in horrifying but unspecified ways.”
Gamer, Colin Loppin, said
“I bought Stars Wars Battlefront II because it afforded me an opportunity to shoot Ewoks in the face after a stressful day of serving customers at Yoghurt Cottage. It also helped to dull the humiliation of being given a name reminiscent of a waistcoat-wearing bunny rabbit from a Beatrix Potter story.
“Now I've been told that I am to die in the same agony that I inflicted on the cannibalistic, C3P0-worshipping, teddy bear sadists from the forest moon of Endor. That wasn't in the licensing agreement I signed when I installed the game.”
Other gamers summoned the motivation to briefly leave their basements and seek protection:
“I went to the new age store on Dimer Avenue and made myself a protective suit from dream catchers...” said Kenneth Bell.
“...At dinner that evening, my Wicca-loving Tumblrette of a younger sister told me that curses were much smaller than dreams and would easily fit through the holes in the netting of the catchers. At this point my father silently got up from the table and a few minutes later we heard his car reversing out of the driveway. He has yet to return home.”
Despite the sense of foreboding and dread that followed the announcement of the curse on social media, the actual impact was barely felt. Journalist, Jeremy Fisher, from the popular gaming review website 'Frogger Went A Courting' equated the indie developer's feeble stab at black magic with the release of Duke Nukem Forever as “a lot of build up to nothing. It was certainly nowhere near the kind of curse you get from AAA developers. They employ whole teams of people whose job is to rain magical beat downs on anyone who stands in the way of a project."
"And once you're cursed you stay cursed,” Fisher added, before jumping off his lilly-pad and disappearing beneath the murky green waters of his pond.
The mood among gamers who awoke on the 23rd June was celebratory with the hashtag #ImAlive quickly rising into the trending topics on Twitter, while the Pearl Jam song - Alive briefly re-entered the Top 10 international downloads on iTunes.
“Did ToT cancel the curse or something?” queried Twitter fuckwit, @backwards7, who subsequently admitted that he had sold all of his possessions on Ebay to pay for a lavish Viking funeral.
“I guess something went wrong with the curse,” said @Cabbage-Kin12.
Gamers reported that they had experienced very little of the agony foretold by Tale of Tales:
“I awoke with the headache that I usually get after drinking 24 cans of store-brand cola before passing out on the couch in front of the Halo menu screen.” said console jockey and insufferable Microsoft fanboy, Roger Puddick.
A statement allegedly from Tales of Tales read:
“Our desire to curse a wider audience was not motivated by feelings of rejection but by a sense of moral obligation to scorch the earth clean of gamers and then salt the ground where there had once stood a thriving industry. We felt we had to try and curse as many people as possible: To rid the world of gamers not in a targeted, methodical point-and-click fashion, but as part of an unfettered rampage of dark magic and battle sorcery - A bit like that guy in Hatred, only with a wand, a top hat and a beautiful assistant replacing the guns and the chainsaws.
“The drying up of funding in Belgium for retaliatory witchcraft meant that we were left with no option other than to source inferior newts from disreputable internet dealers and we feel this may have weakened the potency of our spell.
“We also spent a lot of money renting Leigh Alexander's megaphone so that our curse was heard by the widest possible audience but it didn't help one bit.
“We hate the idea of viewing gamers as numbers and prefer to regard them as an amorphous mass whose collective indifference to our carpet-unrolling and box-opening physics algorithms has doomed them to fates worse than death.
“So far only four gamers have died, all from natural causes, and in mild discomfort rather than the agony we envisaged. It's hard not to feel disappointment in the context of the encouragement we received from those three witches who we met huddled around a cauldron on desolate Scottish moorland, who promised us that we would be Thane of Cawdor and King thereafter.
"We are proud that we tried to curse all gamers. We did out best and we failed, so that's one thing we need never do again. A thirst for vengeance still burns wildly in our hearts like magical violet wildfire, but I do not think we will be resorting to using curses again. And if we do it will be on a small boutique scale.”
Gamer Darren Blackwell told MODE 5:
“I will never forget the day Tale of Tales cursed me and my fellow gamers and I survived. Every day from now on is a gift to be cherished.”
Blackwell then removed a half-eaten slice of cold pizza from a box balanced atop a stack of similar boxes cluttering the surface of a coffee table, and sank into the bowed centre of a sagging settee in front of an episode of Will and Grace.