Hive Offender Talks About Twitch Drops… Again

Recently I was watching my favorite streamer on Twitch, patiently waiting for my twitch drop so I could get out of there.  I chose the channel I was watching at random, because I don’t enjoy watching other people play, but I do enjoy free stuff, so there I sat, glued to the monitor.  I tracked misplay after misplay, cringey joke after cringey joke.  I didn’t even blink, because I thought I might not get a drop if I wasn’t completely engaged.  Then I received a Twitter notification written by High Lord CVH announcing that Twitch drops had ended.  I demand a refund for the time I spent watching this streamer and will now explain why I deserve it.

Mr. Flintstone was a good employer, even if he was a bit of a lazy slob.  He was okay with me being late to the quarry and never seemed to mind us laborers drinking on the job.  I once even had a mid-afternoon quickie with a Velociraptor in the outhouse that he knew about, and all he did as I was leaving that day was give me a thumbs-up.  Don’t judge, it was the Late-Cretaceous.

Mr. Fred Flintstone, Site Supervisor

I didn’t make much money, but the housing market was a lot more reasonable in those days, so it was okay.  I lived in a cave – a nice cave – with my wife, Roxie, and our son, Flint.  We had a Pachycephalosaurs in the garage.  It was a good life.  Back in those days, the only internet service provided was ComCast, but since their service was as good then as it is now, it was pretty impressive, given that this was millions of years ago.

I never really played games online in those days, instead spending most of my digital time editing Rockipedia articles and viewing pornography.  One day I came home from work and found Flint sitting at the screen grinning widely, and prepared for the worst.  Fortunately, he was just playing a new card game called Recent Scrolls: Legends.

It looked like fun.  Every turn, you gained a rock, and you could use rocks to play other rocks onto the board, and fight against your opponent’s rocks.  If you reduced your opponent from 30 rocks to zero rocks, you won the game, and every three wins would get you a bag of rocks and sometimes some premium rocks.

Flint told me that you could play the game without spending real rocks, because of those rocks you gained after winning matches.  I was satisfied that this was a healthy hobby for my growing boy and let it be.

I mention this not because it’s relevant to the narrative in general, but because rock puns are the best.

It was around this time that Roxie surprised me with divorce paperwork.  She told me one night, as I stood in shock, that she had been seeing a guy named Barney on the side and that she was sure he and her were going to run away together.  My heart literally exploded in my chest and I walked out of the room into the closet and laid down to cry.

The next several weeks were rough.  Roxie took Flint to a hotel and I grew a beard.  I was all alone, not even going to work.  All I had was my internet.

I spent hours at a time at websites like RockHub, RockTube, and Teens Like Big Rocks.  I was ashamed, but I was happy, in my own way.

One morning, however, I awoke to the most awful thing that had ever happened to me.  I tried to get to RockHub, but suddenly, I was forced to watch an advertisement.  The magic was gone.  This was no longer the intimate connection between three people that it was supposed to be – now someone else was here, watching me, judging me, asking me to try a new bizarre flavor of Oreos.  I spontaneously combusted and destroyed the entire neighborhood.

See, I was used to getting my rocks off one way, with zero effort (well, minimal effort) on my part.  I knew that pornography cost money to make, but I deserve it for free, because I’m awesome.  When I was forced to engage in capitalism to get what I wanted, my core temperature rose to over 40,000,000 degrees and for a brief moment in my rage I became a star.  The intense gravity I generated killed hundreds and left the area uninhabitable for generations, ultimately blacking out the sky and killing off the dinosaurs.  I could have just watched the ad and then gone about my business, but I wasn’t about to participate in life in order to get what I wanted.  By forcing us to play the game in order to obtain in-game loot, Bethesda has charted a course that I believe will lead to the extinction of all life on Earth.

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