>You are Echo
>Game reviewer extraordinaire
>Today, you got to play a new game
>It was an indie title, you don't play many of those these days
>You put in the cartridge and flick on the switch before realizing for the millionth time you can't play video games
>Sitting back in your chair, you grab the type writer and type out in Morse code your solution to everything
>7.8 too much water

>You are Anon
>You can't believe this stupid shit face nigger on the internet said your amazing game you spent twenty minutes working on in game maker and put on Early Access on Steam
>The only thing you could do now was find the house of whoever wrote the article, have sex with them, and make your game 10/10
>Grabbing your Macbook, you use your masterful hacker skills to find the address of the reviewer on the "about us" section of the website
>As you're leaving, you kiss your life size replica of Halo for good luck
>Walking down the street, you push ponies out of your way
>You had no time for such worthless ponies, all that mattered was making your game the greatest in the world
>The house soon came into view
>You stopped, staring at the familiar house
>It was Echo's house
>You couldn't have sex with her
>You began to think of an amazing new plan

>You are Echo, sitting st your desk, reading a magazine
>As you're turning one of the pages with your wing, you hear a crash from downstairs
>Cautiously descending the stares, you look around do see a brick in your living room
>Picking up the brick, you notice a note
>It reads, "die cis scum, the water is supposed to symbolize transvestites hardships in life and how they must overcome a sea of judgment from straight flying mares like you"
>You sigh and drop the brick as you walk upstairs
>You use a pencil to mark a fourth tally on a piece of paper by your desk
"That marks the fourth time today."