LordMandalore wrote...
I envision a future where games are sold not as a complete story or experience, but as separate pieces of DLC that can be put into your game, down to visible ammo counters and health bars which are invisible in the vanilla game under the illusion of being a "feature" to cater to "the hardcore playerbase".
As the world watches in horror as EA, inevitably the driving force behind this abomination, whips Bioware into breaking apart the staff and focus even more in the past, the BSN will swarm with the defenders of the game, screaming out favorite words such as "whiners" and "entitled" to those who would dare demand their money's worth for a product, utterly convinced that "the game belongs to the company and they don't have to listen to you!" as if the employees would create a game only to play with it themselves in their darkened hellholes reminiscent of the hopeless space prominently featured in "The Pit and the Pendulum".
The game would then offer exclusive pre-order DLC to add on to the long line of inevitable downloadable content this game would have, and pre-ordering DLC would gain more exclusive DLC in a never ending cycle that would make even the most vile of Lovecraftian horrors tremble in fear and retreat into their more safer living spaces beyond the colors of time and veil of human understanding.
As this game disc is put into the consoles (or downloaded through EA Origin, which has now become a sentient organism but only able to communicate through poorly written English, pre-recorded responses, and a series of stuttering farts which had been imprinted upon it by those who once tended the beast) the console will inevitably burst into flames, vomiting bile around the room as the console itself spins violently (the bile from the Xbox version will have noticeably jagged edges). As the players sit on their couch, covered in the filth, they shall read inevitable reviews of 10/10 from websites such as IGN, praising the game for allowing every feature to be added by choice alone.
Those who disagree with these reviews or dare criticize this masterpiece receive a ban from the forums, from their consoles, and are put on terrorist watch lists. They are then deported to an isolated isthmus flanked by an endless queue of barbed wire and encompassed by sex-starved agitated sharks in a large sea of human waste, stained suppositories, and Magic Johnson's used prophylactics. On this truculent plantation and reformatory will reside alarge formless building, save for the EA logo. Inside this edifice (aptly subtitled with "We Want Call of Duty's Audience) will be a theater with a floor scoured with swarms of scarabs and scorpions and june bugs that give you prostate cancer, the faint aroma of carrion from the sanguinary maxipads under the seats, and an unfortunately large screen that will forever play homosexual dwarven love scenes from Dragon Age 2 that will continue until you've learned your lesson.
When I read that, the voice in my head was kind of like
this one. A grim future indeed!