(This is actually a story from a short while ago, but it's just now that I felt like talking about it.) 
 

Sure, there are a ton of great deals out there on steam right now, but we all know that steam sales are very, very good at making you spend a lot of money when you don't want to. Thankfully, I count myself among the many people who have yet to buy anything on steam aside from thief and grand theft auto and trine and... ****

E3 is considered among the best of times to be a video game playing maniac. Some even consider it a holiday (my superiors are not among those). However, how many of you really know the truth about E3? What It stands for? What it means for the future? Another philisophical question? 
Luckily for you I know the truth of E3, and am willing to talk all about it. Buckle your seatbelts (or tie yourself to something) cause your about to be... BLOWN AWAY HAH HAH.

 What Is E3?         
 There is no such thing as E3. E3 truly stands for "The Electronic Three", three pieces of an evil god that gather every year to take over the world through their mastery of electronic entertainment.  The event most people know of is truly the staging grounds for an epic fight, hidden away by the governments of the world.

 
How did it come about? 
The E3 were born way back in the late 1800's. Back then, Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt was a crimefighting vigilante who stalked the streets of New York, fighting evil villains. He was one day approached by Time Traveler Abraham Lincoln(tm) who brought him knews of an evil cult. This cult, known as "Microapplesoft", seeked to summon the ancient god of electronic entertainment, GBLRADLEGAGN. By utilizing Time Traveler Abraham Lincoln(tm)'s time machine, they were able to go back into the future past and stop the evil cult (a story for another day). However, before being defeated, they managed to summon the god. Luckily, Roosevelt, being a known bear puncher, countered this by punching it in the face. This devestating attack tore the god into three, and, with the use of Time Traveler Abraham Lincoln(tm)'s time machine, the pieces were scattered throughout history.

After this, Time Traveler Abraham LIncoln(tm) went back to his own time, and Roosevelt decided to become president, so that he could set into place a series of countermeasures to protect us should GBLRADLEGAGN ever return. 
 
Later, in 1990, the secret elders of Microsoft and Apple (two groups that came about after the original group's defeat) came together with a plan to bring back the god. It took almost five years to complete their plans, and they very nearly succeeded.  The god was summoned, he came in his original three pieces, though each assumed a seperate identity. The god of Sony, the god of Nintendo, and the god formerly known as Sega who would later change his name to the simpler god of Microsoft. 

Luckily, shadow president Teddy Roosevelt the seventeenth learned of their plans, and put together a crack team of journalists to stop him.

 What happens at E3? 
Each god, now calling themselves the Electronic Three, immediately attempted to set out and take over the world when the journalists arrived. The journalists, through their astounding knowledge of the english language and video game trivia, and led by Time Traveler Abe Lincoln(tm), managed to defeat the E3 in an epic battle that even now is covered up by the government. However, despite their victory, the E3 were cursed to re-gather every year at around the same time. Because of this, every video game journalist must make a trip to the hallowed grounds each year so that they may fight the evil gods and restore peace to the world. Game Developers even go, so that they may pay homage to the great journalists who saved their lives and their industry.
   
All the coverage we see is just actors and photoshop. 
 
What lies in the future for E3? 
In the year 2012, it is said that the E3 will finally put aside differences and combine to reform the original god. This will lead to a bloody 20 year battle where videogame journalists are finally allowed to tell the public of their exploits, and will become paramount to super heroes. Every child will be expected to play videogames twelve hours a day and talk about it on the internet so that they may one day grow and recieve the coveted honor of being a video game journalist. 
Eventually, the chosen one, a journalist who is said to move the angels to tears with his stories, will rise from the deepest pits of the internet. Surrounded by an army of trolls, flamers, and other internet dwellers, he will strike down the god, finally bringing an end to the strife that has plagued us for centuries. He will then join Time Traveler Abraham Lincoln(tm), and together they will smite evil across time until the day they settle down and have a nice family. 
 
And that chosen one was me. 

"Er, Uh," He was starting to panic. That was good. It usually takes longer "Th-the hat?" 
 
Oh right, I had forgotten about that. I was testing my new "MMO Name hat", a brilliant invention which, in an attempt to help WoW shut-ins reintergrate themselves into society showed their account name and their guild above their head, just like in game. Though I had never played WoW, it did show my main internet name  (masterherocard) and the name of the guild I was a member of (the manly flower picking guild of

America

Most of us have had some pretty awful computers in our lives. However, I have found a foolproof* method of fixing this situation. Simply follow the steps below, and you will be on your way to a better place.
 
Step one: Place your terrible computer on a desk, table, or other level and sturdy object.  Make sure that the most fragile parts are facing upwards.
 
Step two: Take a few steps back, then proceed to dropkick your computer. Studies have shown** that computers learn lessons best when dropkicked. 
 
Step three: Go looking for a new computer at a store. Be sure to inquire into dropkick resistance, rate of dramatic explosions, and likelyhood of starting robot revolutions.
 
Step four: Purchase computer. Should said computer malfunction, repeat the process with increasingly interesting methods of destruction until you have obtained either a decent, stable computer, or one that is dropkick resistant.
 

 
The police officer stared across the table at me. I stared across the table at his coffee. "Ok, lets try this again." He said, for the tenth time. "Why did you break in?"  

I sighed and grabbed at the coffee. He hit my hand away, just like every other time in the past hour. "Why do you keep asking?"  I said, nursing my hand. It may be broken at this point. 
 
"Because in all my years here, nobody has broken into NASA without a logical reason." 
 
"I gave you a reason." 
 
"No, every time I asked you starting singing the gilligan's island theme" 
 
He was on to me. It seemed i wouldn't be able to lure this cop into a false sense of security with old television theme songs. I figured i'd just come clean, and I would be able to get in time for lunch. "Alright, fine. I wanted to steal a spaceship." 
 
The cop relaxed. I reached for the coffee. "Now we're making progress..." He said, as I cradled my now further injured hand. "I get this a lot. So tell me, why did you want it?" 
 
"Well I need to get to the moon to build a moon laser." 
 
He stared at me again. "Now why would you want to do that?" He asked. 
 
"Well, someone on the internet called me ***" 
 
"Someone on the internet called you asterisk-asterisk-asterisk..." He sighed.

 
"Yeah. Then I decided to insult his mother. Then he insulted mine. Then it went on for a few hours and now here I am." 
 
The cop was visably perplexed. I considered taking at pass at the coffee again, but my arm wouldn't move.  "How does that tie into this? " 
 
"Well, internet arguements never really end, they just cool off." I explained, trying to will my hand to move. "I didn't want this guy to get off easily, so I needed a way to get to him. Then I thought, 'Hey, I could blow up the planet with a moon laser, that'll work.' To which the guy sitting next to me on the bus said ' what the jebebus are you talking about' so i started explaining it to him, and said 'well arguements on the internet never really end, so i don't want this one guy to gett off easily, so i thought 'hey, I could''"

 
"Couldn't you have just, I don't know, ignored him? I mean, everyone will think he's a loser anyway, so what does it matter?" 

I was shocked at this cop's plan. It was just stupid enough to work. However, it needed something. Something... interesting. "What if I ignore him with a laser?" 
 
"How do you ignore somebody with a-" My hand sprang to life, and I grabbed a hold of the coffee. Victory was finally mine! 
 
An hour later, I was in a jail cell, sleeping off my first-degree coffee burns and my now paralyzed hand. Thats when I got to thinking about the true nature of internet arguements. They really never do end. Without exerting pressure face-to-face, people can go around and use the same arguement regardless of whether their right or wrong. Just then, I realized the only true way to win, was to not play the game. Let them wallow in pity, and go on with my life. I just had to ignore them.  
 
The next day. 
 
The cop stared at me from across the table. "Couldn't let it go, huh?" 
  
I stared back. He didn't have any coffee this time. "Oh, I don't even care about that guy any more. I just want a moon laser."

      Goomba: [Goom-bah]  

1. A common enemy type in the Mario series of videogames. 
2. A minion of the villain Bowser.

 Minor henchmen, known as the lowest of enemies. They are easily dispatched of with any form of attack. They lack intelligence, and will often walk off of cliffs. Their only form of offense is to run into the opponent, and they have no concept of what defense is. When defeated, they will either give points, coins, or other similer objects. As coins can heal  Mario, they often amount to little more than walking containers.  
They come in multiple forms, though each form improves very little. Some have wings, and are upgraded to the status of floating jump-off point, while others come in an even weaker variety that are dispatched of even more easily. Often voted as the most pathetic minion in history, any victories obtained by them are attributed either to extreme luck, or a pathetic and disgraceful opponent. 
 
See also: Things that killed me five times in a row.

  
"Guys, why are we so pathetic?" I pouted, almost at the verge of tears. I was currently immersed in a game of Left 4 dead 2, busily shooting things that should never have come into existance. I had a knack for not dying, something i cannot say for the rest of my team. Coach was busy getting mauled by a hunter, while Rochelle was having a good time being covered in goo. I didn't even know where the guy playing Ellis was, but he disappeared sometime around when we ran from a tank, so I had a pretty good idea of what happened to him.  
 
"I mean, we can't go five steps without getting killed" I supported my statement by getting crushed by a car. The person playing rochelle responded with a stream of expletives. Coach simply started reciting the alphabet, though he skipped five letters, and had difficulty getting to G. The Ellis player was still nowhere to be found, but had apparently met a similer fate to the rest of us. Thus, yet another attempt at dead center ended in failure. My computer still stood only because I learned something important from when I last drop-kicked it. Instead, Itook to kicking other, less expensive objects in the general vicinity, including such things as a bookshelf, a house of cards, and a small dog (Don't worry, it wasn't mine).  Still, I am nothing if not persistant. Figuring my bad luck with team-mates could not possibly last much longer, I decided to continue playing. It was here I remembered thinking that the last fourty times. It was also here I forgot what I had learned earlier.  
 
Two weeks later, my new computer showed up. In those two, long, zombie-killing-less weeks, I had some time to think about things. I rethought my plans, my strategies, and all my tactics. Finally, I had come to a conclusion. "I will jump off the roof!" I shouted, full of determination. Thismade the people beside me a tad bit nervous, but I barely even noticed them. I decided that as soon as I left my tour of the empire state building, I would put my bold plan into action. 
 
After a few days of being treated for depression, I went to my computer and started a game. After being dropped into the beginning of Dead center, I rushed ahead of my group. The Coach player followed me, apparently impressed by my sheer resolve. A few doors down, I decided this room would be as good as any, and bashed open the door. The fire behind it said hello, and punched me in the face. After a brief moment of panic, and a failed attempt to put the fire out with bullets, I realized I had taken enough time for the rest of the group to catch up. As is my personal policy, I used the opportunity for a Caruso-esque one liner. "Looks like I," I started, " am on fire today."  Instead of being greeted by the customary "YEEEEAAAAHH", I was dissapointed to find only more zombies. It looked like I would need to use the glasses next time.  
 
I suddenly remembered my original idea, and quickly went to put it into action. Carefully judging height, weight, and wind velocity, I threw caution to the wind (In a very specific way, mind you) and jumped. The first thing that hit me was, of course, the ground. The second were the noises of anguish from my former fellow survivors. I apologized, and promised i wouldn't do anything that stupid again. Of course, when they died shortly thereafter, I quickly located the first ledge in the next game, and hurdled myself off of it. After a few games consisting solely of this, my companions became aware of my plans, and left. Realizing that it was much less fun by yourself, I left (4 dead (2)) and went into Team Fortress. 
 
After an hour of doing nothing but punch-rushing the other team with the heavy (which, as I was dissapointed to find out, actually somewhat worked), I decided it was time for a change. Thus, I altered my inventory, and went into another game. 
 
"MOVE OUT!" Shouted an engineer from behind me. A medic rushed out one door, following close behind a soldier. A scout lept over me, and out another, while an innocent crab skuttled past. After taking a brief moment to gather my bearings, I followed the rest of the team.  This was an Arena match, a special mode where if you die, your gone till the next round. Thus, every man on the team counts, even the really terrible ones. I quickly made my way up to the highest point I could find. Somehow, I managed to avoid various people fighting on the way there, and made it without a scratch.  The rest of the team was not so lucky. By this point, I was the only one left besides one guy on the other team.
 
"*********" said the engineer from earlier. He had apparently run into some minor trouble, and had come down with a case of "Body-made-up-of-bloody-pieces-itis" (it's very rare).  "I had that *********"   

"It's ok!" I had no clue who was saying this one, so I decided to name the voice Bill. "They only have a half-dead scout left, and we have a heavy waiting for him!" Bill was adressing me, apparently looking towards me like a kind of savior. I made a note to apologize later.   

 "You better not die you ******" Said tourrettes man, whom quickly added on "Oh ****, there he is!*

 
Turning around, I noticed the wiry frame of a scout, rushing towards me. Looking at the situation from every concievable angle, I came up with a suitable course of action. I switched out my minigun for my secondary weapon. My finger came down hard on the button, and with one tap, I ate the Sandvich. I died moments later. 
 
Five games full of extremely similer situations later, everyone had realized what I was up to. It came to the point where someone finally tried to talk to me about it.  "Hey ******, stop eating those  ******* things and do something ******* useful!" Said the friendly engineer. At least, That's what I think he said. I was too busy eating my Sandvich to listen.  "If you don't i swear to god, i'm going to kill you!" he threatened. Of course, I took this into consideration by doing the exact same thing as before.   
 
As I giggled to myself over my apparent wit, the door leading to my house was shot open, and in came a man clad in what appeared to be a vest made of guns. "I warned you, I ******** warned you!" He shouted, as he unloaded every bullet he had on him into me. I was so shocked at what was happening, that he shot me again. When I finally crumpled to the ground, he mumbled something about "Female poodles" and "Griefing" before finally leaving. So there I was, filled with more holes than swiss cheese, and half dead already witht he other half due to leave soon. Yet, even here I knew what I had to do. I crawled my way over to a nearby box, and pulled out a pair of glasses. If I was going to go out, I was going to leave in style. The world started to turn black, and i began to regret my actions. Perhaps, I thought, I wouldn't be here if I made smarter choices. I put on the glasses, and managed to mutter something. "Looks like I," I paused to spit up some blood, "am logging out." 
 
YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!