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A review for the videogame "Among Us"
This game has ruined my fucking life. I'm going to end it and take you all with me because I can't bear to look at anything anymore. Any shape I see is distorted into amogus, any time I hear the word suspicious, sus, task, vent, report, ANYTHING, human pattern recognition turns it into amogus. I close my eyes and i see amogus, i see jerma985 grinning as the gates of my soul are opened by amogus and I can feel the festering sclunge of words and shapes pour in, filling all that I am with the ringing noise of amogus
This game has ruined my fucking life. I'm going to end it and take you all with me because I can't bear to look at anything anymore. Any shape I see is distorted into amogus, any time I hear the word suspicious, sus, task, vent, report, ANYTHING, human pattern recognition turns it into amogus. I close my eyes and i see amogus, i see jerma985 grinning as the gates of my soul are opened by amogus and I can feel the festering sclunge of words and shapes pour in, filling all that I am with the ringing noise of amogus
Disclaimer: my hatred of geologists is purely theatrical, but if I did have to kill one for some reason, it would be very easy.
I’d brandish my obsidian knife at them and they’d be compelled to approach. “That’s very cool,” they’d say, confident in their superior strength and endurance from all the rocks they carry around at all times. They’d shower me with very interesting facts about obsidian and hover just out of range of the cutting edge, waiting for me to exhaust myself. “But as it is volcanic glass, it’s very fragile, you see, and isn’t well-suited for use as a weap—” and then I’d hit them with the wooden baseball bat in my other hand, which they would not have noticed because geologists can only see rocks and minerals.
Disclaimer: my hatred of geologists is purely theatrical, but if I did have to kill one for some reason, it would be very easy.
I’d brandish my obsidian knife at them and they’d be compelled to approach. “That’s very cool,” they’d say, confident in their superior strength and endurance from all the rocks they carry around at all times. They’d shower me with very interesting facts about obsidian and hover just out of range of the cutting edge, waiting for me to exhaust myself. “But as it is volcanic glass, it’s very fragile, you see, and isn’t well-suited for use as a weap—” and then I’d hit them with the wooden baseball bat in my other hand, which they would not have noticed because geologists can only see rocks and minerals.