[pixelation | weekly gaming & life column every wednesday or uh thursday]

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Evan King never stood a chance, that poor son of a bitch. The tragic part was as he lay vaporized in a pile of his own mush-guts, was that it was all for nothing. I stood over him, rummaging through his belongings looking for his motherfucking house key.

Fuggin’ nothing. Inconsequential bullshit to the point where I don’t even remember what was in those shitty wasteland pants. But it wasn’t his fucking house key, that’s for sure.

One self-particlized stupid son of a bitch, a town cowering in fear, and my karmic meter droppin’ like woah.

Shit had gone downhill quickly.

Let me fill you in.

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