People, if you're on this site and reading this, no Vegas bookie would take the odds that you don't do your homework on games, be that a review, preview, demo, or a variant on Giant Bomb's own Quick Looks.  You're also probably smart enough to tell people, "Hey, you really should check that game out before you buy it, you know?"  Friends, I made a horrible mistake today by not emphasizing that point again and again to someone who should know better.  
 
You know the type of guy.  He knows just enough about computers and eBay to make purchases, and despite the fact that this person has been burned on a dozen different used purchases, still makes the same goddamn rookie mistakes.  He's the guy that opens every forward because he knows who sent it to him, and "that guy wouldn't send me a virus!"  He's the guy with a computer always loaded with viruses, bugs, spyware, and a metric ton of shitty bargain bin games, save for the ones you've purchased for him.  He's the guy with a console, with one or two good games and twenty copies of shit similar to Cabela's Big Game Hunting and Raving Rabbids.  Yep, he's That Guy. 
 
Well, today, I had a chance to stop That Guy from making one hell of a dumb mistake.  We were at That Big Superstore Run By Satan's Minions, and I was doing my thing, buying up stock in Axe, cheese, and chimichangas (oohhh, chimis - I'm gonna write you an epic later.  No, an ode.  Something.), when That Guy comes at me with a cart full of his junk and a big shiny copy of... you know, I have no goddamned clue what the name of this heap of steaming shit is.  I think it's called X5 Fishing, but I can't find anything about it on the wide, wide world of the 'net.  That should give you your first clue as to the high quality of this priceless gem.  It was bundled with an entire Wii fishing rod, which is far too cheaply made to be even a product of some Chinese sweatshop (by the way, Bai Xing, get your ass back to work and make daddy some money). 
 
I should have held up the hand and stopped this foolishness right then and there.  I should have just said no.  I should have asked politely if That Guy had ever heard of this game, the product, or hell, even any of the developers.  I should have punched him out, stolen his wallet, and ran before he could have spent his admittedly hard-earned money on this gaming equivalent to being the recipient of a Cleveland Steamer.  But no, ladies and gents.  I was tired, and I really, really, really hate That Gigantic Clusterfuck of a Superstore Run By Satan and His Minions, so instead of saying anything, I grunted a noncommital response to his orgiastic enthusiasm for the game, and we got the hell out of Dodge. 
 
Two hours later, and That Guy is powering up his Wii, putting together the fishing rod, and practically bouncing out of his chair.  Me, I was cringing and waiting for the inevitable "What the fuck?"  I wasn't disappointed.  After about five minutes of near apoplexy from winging his arm at the screen trying to get the broken game to read his movements, That Guy finally delivered that fabled cheap-ass game discovery phrase.  And I, dear Reader, was left with that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach - and no, it wasn't from the ridiculous amount of Little Caesar's pizza I had scarfed earlier.  This was guilt.  Because of my laziness and abhorrence of That Huge Hellish Superstore, That Guy wound up with a shitty fishing game and obscenities stuck in his craw. 
 
Don't be a tool.  Never, ever let your friends implusively buy shitty games.  The more you know...