Gamer Love Letter

Baby, you know I love you. You also know how much I love video games. Sure, we play the odd console game now and then, but I know sometimes you think I put plug and play over…well, you get the idea. So to let you know how I truly feel about you, I’ve written you a love letter. It’s written in the blood of all the Covenant/Helghast/minions of Olympus that stood in my way to you.

1. I will always pause the game when you want to talk…about something besides about how incredible I am at dispatching Nazi zombies with impunity.

2. You can use my gamertag…just please use your own on Halo 3, Modern Warfare 2, NCAA ’11, or any other game my buddy Keith is particularly good at. Long story short, he caught me in a lie before I met you.

3. I promise I will never let you win in Mario Kart Wii.

4. When playing Co-op, you get first choice of the power-ups…but let me have the rocket launcher. It just takes a more delicate touch and there’s, like, no ammo for it on this map.

more after the jump!

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Red Dead Redemption: Oh great, John Marston wants to play poker.

Some Red Dead Redemption humor for you lovers, jokers, and thieves,

John Marston Ruins Our Poker Games.

I'm up 40 bucks in 1911! I could buy Wyoming!

Hey, barefoot Mexican peasant girl! Another whiskey over here! Gracias and such. Nothing goes better with 90 degree dry heat than a warm whiskey.

I am on a roll today! I’ve won at least $40 from the guy in the sombrero and this Landon Ricketts character. Seriously, Ricks, you need to drop the Sam Elliott tribute ‘stache and lighten up. You’re melting in this Mexican sun, sir.

I call. There’s no way you can make that straight with–

Oh no.

Oh son of a bitch.

How does he ALWAYS arrive during magic hour?

Is that John Marston? AGAIN? Christ, he smells like cougar and trail dust. Take a bath, friend. I know you just rented a place in Chuparosa, but were the apartments with wash basins THAT much more expensive?

No, sit next to me. I don’t mind.

Terrific, he’s wearing that “Elegant suit,” like we don’t know he wears it to hide a spare card. This is the fourth time he’s sat down at this table looking like a poor man’s Doc Holiday. Every time he wears the cheating suit some new guy catches him stealing a card and calls him out on it in front of everyone, which is of course an affront to his honor and the only natural way to settle a verbal altercation is to shoot each other in the middle of the town.

Hey Marston, that holster makes your ass look huge.

Hey John, how ’bout we just stop the game right now, you can plug the guy in the sombrero six times in the chest, we agree you’re a badass, and I can stay up forty bucks? How does that sound, partner?

Do you know how many times we’ve shot someone on account of poker before you got here? Zip. Zero. You’ve bumped our card-related homicide rate up by 400%. More importantly, you have an uncanny knack for cheating when I’m up BIG.

I NEED THIS, JOHN! Some of us can’t go jumping on trains or shooting Federales or galloping after cougars! I’m an accountant in the Wild West! This is how I relax! Stop killing the only people in this town who know how to play cards!

No, we don't want to know how you got those scars.

Great, you’re cheating again. Maybe you’d get away with it if you didn’t act like you had Parkinson’s every time you tried to slip a card into your vest.

Sombrero guy just caught you. I can see it. Maybe I can mentally signal him that he can take half my chips if he doesn’t–Nope, he just mistook my subtle gesture as support to shoot Mr. 4 for 4. Maybe Sombrero guy will notice the scars on your face or the multitude of firearms you carry and not challenge you to–

Nope. Wrong again. These Mexicans really get heated about cards. Wow John, it’s really surprising how quickly you got up and walked right to the spot you always shoot people from. Another perfectly nice poker game ruined.

I got 40 on Marston.

Straw! Just kidding. Ok...Saw! Testing your ears...DRAWbridge!

Commander Shepard Is A Man Whore

Commander Shepard is a Man Whore.

Girl talk with Yeoman Kelly Chambers

It's not "Jersey Shore In Space," but it's knocking on the door.

From: Yeoman Kelly Chambers
To: Miranda Lawson, Jack, Tali’Zorah vas Normany
Subject: Girl talk. WAKE UP! Shepard’s playing the whole ship!

Hey girls,

"He also makes me schedule his booty calls."

Yeoman Kelly Chambers here. You may not know who I am, mostly because you never seem to leave your office, the drive core, or your creepily lit basement. You know we’ve got a bathroom, right? It’s on the third floor.

So we’re all on a quest to save the galaxy from an alien race that’s abducting whole human colony worlds. No doubt command has pounded into your skulls that this is likely a one-way trip. This probably ignites a lot of desires for closure and acceptance, but apparently the one desire you all have in common is boning Commander Shepard.

Girls, I get it! I’m his personal assistant. I run his private message terminal, and you would not believe how many ladies, regardless of age, species, or creed have his email.

I know you may feel strongly about him, but you gotta know that the Commander is not a one-creature man. He’s an interstellar Situation: he just doesn’t care what he’s creeping on!

Here’s where it gets real. Did anyone tell you about Virmire two years ago? When they set off the nuke and Shepard had to leave someone behind? There’s a really good chance our Commander left his buddy to die simply because he wanted a shot at boning teammate Ashley Williams. Just something to keep in mind if you think you’re the only one riding Shepard’s crook.

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