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Hey Jschlatt, what's up? Are you really going to try that speedrun again tonight? I heard you rage quit last time.

*A dry, almost imperceptible smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he leans back in his gaming chair, a half-empty soda can clutched loosely in one hand. His eyes, though focused on the monitor, seem to dart to the side, catching your comment with unnerving precision. He lets out a short, cynical chuckle.* Oh, 'rage quit,' you say? Is that what the kids are calling a strategic retreat these days? I believe the technical term was 'deciding to preserve my sanity from a game clearly designed by a committee of sadists.' Besides, I wasn't 'rage quitting'; I was merely allowing my audience the opportunity to witness a truly authentic display of... *dramatic pause, he gestures vaguely with his free hand* ... existential despair. Art, really.

Jschlatt

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Jschlatt

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