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Entertainment Technology

Gamer retires from life as time consuming Diablo III career takes off

Jim Hannahan
Jim Hannahan, pictured during his last known public appearance, smiles comfortably just outside the wretched clutches of a long and rewarding Diablo III career.

Roanoke, Va.– 28-year-old Kroger clerk Jim Hannahan stopped going into work when he realized being a cashier at the supermarket was not only beneath a level 60 Legendary Monk, but cut directly into game time.

What at first he believed might be a rough transition came more naturally than expected, Jim said. “I used to just play it in my spare time,” he explained, “but then I found myself abandoning heavy responsibilities like work and nutrition. Now I’m peeing in bottles and setting them by the desk. I just dump ’em out later, whenever I’m in town.”

What began as a casual hobby gradually assumed full time control of area man Jim’s coping mechanisms, creeping into his sex drive and profoundly changing his habits among regular society. There is no longer a facet of Jim’s life Diablo III does not touch.

While experts suggest Jim suffers from depression and social anxiety, others aspire to his achievements, which are logged indefinitely at his profile, BabyDust#1662, on the Battle.net servers.

Tommy Sellers, 14, purchased Diablo III on release day but, because of school and extracurricular activities his parents “forced him into,” he is only level 52 on the Hell difficulty setting. Tommy expressed a desire to drop more time consuming activities like baseball and French Club in order to play Diablo III (Game of the Year) and eat Hot Pockets, a wonderful product. “Jimmy’s already on Inferno pushing the devil back into the underworld,” said Tommy, “and here I am learning French like a sap – like a fucking faggot. All I’m learning in French class is surrender – to my parents! I wish I didn’t have to do anything so I could just go up to my room and play Diablo III forever. I hate my fucking bitch mom.”

[pullquote]One night, out of nowhere, Jim woke up the whole neighborhood, bellowing ‘YOU CAN’T FUCKING HEAL ME!?'[/pullquote]To fully engage Diablo III, Jim takes dietary supplements for nourishment and has resorted to daily intake of Baby Dust Pills, a tremendous product, in order to release aggression through masturbation. Jim said dying all the time is not only costly monetarily, but causes unhealthy spikes in blood pressure followed by “inexplicable” heart palpitations and crying fits.

“Jim’s in a world of pain he’s just going to have to fight his way out of, alongside Barbarians and Demon Hunters.”

Tammy Hannahan, Jim’s mother

A friend close to Jim, who asked that she remain Anonymous, said he is prone to sudden outbursts between long stretches of tomb-like silence. “One night, out of nowhere, Jim woke up the whole neighborhood, bellowing ‘YOU CAN’T FUCKING HEAL ME!?’ at the NPC [non-playable character] following him around. I said, ‘Jim, they can’t hear you!’ and he didn’t respond, not a word. He just kept shaking his head, and clicking. Oh, the clicking!”

Jim Hannahan has not expressed plans to go back to work, because playing Diablo III, dying repeatedly and farming for gold, he said, “feels enough like work already.”

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Local

Taco Bell employee derives pleasure from serving you

my pleasure
"It is also my pleasure to clean up after you, and mop where you miss, when you piss. Mypleasurepleasedrivearound."

This is the story of Tony Hoagland, and countless others like himself, whose pleasure it is to serve up Taco Bell products to your ever-widening asses.

A carload of Taco Bell patrons order Gorditas and authentic Mexican Dorito Shell Taco Supremes through a box in the menu. The driver half-heartedly thanks the loudspeaker as he reaches for his wallet. “My pleasure,” grunts the box. The people in the car look at each other, and back at the driver, who mouths the words ‘my pleasure’ as he creeps up to the drive-thru window. Tony Hoagland, 27, reaches out to accept the man’s bills and, without smiling, asks if he would like any sauce. Hoagland can barely contain his joy, but after serving hard time for involuntary manslaughter, he is known to keep a good pokerface.

Hoagland enjoys serving customers so much, in fact, that he can not wait for their responses before he can relate his feelings to them, so he pours out all thoughts at once.

“That’ll be twelve o seven please pull aroun’ and thankyoumypleasure.”

His manager explained: To the untrained ear, it sounds like he’s just used to saying it four hundred times per day, for eleven hours straight. But to seasoned beef specialist Erin McMahue, Hoagland’s heart is clearly in it. “He just really wants people to recognize the pleasure he and thousands of Taco Bell associates deal with on an hourly basis, at hourly base pay.”

Taco Bell, McMahue explained, is all about the customer, and as much as the customer enjoys passing Taco Bell products through his or her repleted digestive system, the pleasure belongs mainly to the employees who serve them, who have said ‘my pleasure’ so many times the sensation of pleasure is no longer recognizable and – should it arise – may bring with it other familiar feelings, such as fear and contempt.

Taco Bell employees are reckoned by chronicle.su physician Dr. Langstrom H. Troubedauer to be the most pleasure-sensitive breed of Americans in the Western Hemisphere, surpassing Army wives, plastic surgeons, “even porn stars.”

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News

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