The Sims announced their Star Wars cashgrab the other day and I’m still crushed by disappointment and an unreasonable level of rage (like, come on, jackhats, you HAVE in-game aliens that you’ve done next to NOTHING with. I mean, my sim can be abducted and impregnated with an alien hybrid spawn, who I spend time and effort raising up, saving all his simoleons so I can buy a rocket, which I grind out upgrades on just so I can take the now-grown hybrid to planet Sixam and…NOTHING. Not even a ‘Home!’ buff. What do I get for all that effort? Just a purple schlub with a stupid voice and a pod-looking bassinet gathering dust in the attic. Do you wanna maybe do something with that? Flesh out the aliens or the homeworld or some alien-looking furniture or building stuff or…no? No, you’d rather players pay you money to play your interactive advertisement for another freaking game? Yeah, okay, I guess I can see how that would SUCK, YOU ALL SUCK, LITERALLY NO ONE WANTED THIS PACK, I HOPE YOUR CAT THROWS UP ON YOUR PILLOW AND YOU DON’T NOTICE UNTIL YOU GET INTO BED AND PUT YOUR STUPID MONEYGRUBBING FACES DIRECTLY INTO IT AND I HOPE YOUR MOUTH IS OPEN WHEN YOU DO, STICK AN ENTIRE LIGHTSABER UP YOUR COLLECTIVE ASSES, YOU NERFHERDERS!), so I’ma make this quick.

New chapter of my FNAF fanfic is up on Fanfiction.net and Archiveofourown.org, and can I just take a moment to saw a word about Scott Cawthon (the creator of Five Nights at Freddy’s), who, while The Sims was preparing to smear a hot handful of unwanted Star Wars content all over a game so RIDDLED BY BUGS CAUSED BY RUSHING PACKS OUT THE DEVELOPMENT CHUTE THAT IT HAS BECOME VIRTUALLY UNPLAYABLE WITHOUT MODS. SERIOUSLY. HOW MANY YEARS HAS IT BEEN, LITERAL YEARS, SINCE YOU BROKE THE DAMN PLANTS WHICH THE SCIENTIST CAREER STILL REQUIRES YOU CARE FOR? HOW MANY YEARS HAVE WE BEEN TELLING YOU THAT DIAGNOSING ILLNESS DOESN’T ALWAYS WORK BECAUSE PATIENTS KEEP RESETTING THEIR SYMPTOMS? HOW MANY YEARS HAVE BUSINESS PERK POINTS BEEN RANDOMLY BLIPPING OUT OF EXISTENCE? OH, BUT STAR WARS, THAT’S WHAT THE PEOPLE WANT!

Ahem. Scott Cawthon, who recently announced the Fazbear Fanverse Initiative, in which he is helping the creators of some of the best fangames further develop their works, release new games and possibly even get their own lines of merch. And that’s…wow. That’s so wow.

Speaking of merch…

New designs coming soon!

Click the pics to check out my shop on Redbubble!

Other gaming companies who shall remain nameless throw their players a bone now and then, like a free Baby Yoda figure, everyone likes Baby Yoda, right? It’s not a doll, you can’t play with it or interact with it at all apart from Viewing it, but you all like Baby Yoda, so take your free Baby Yoda and by the way, the update that will patch that in will disable all your custom content and Mods, which you shouldn’t be downloading anyway because our game is perfect just the way it is. But on the flipside, here’s a guy who values the creativity of his fandom enough to get their games more recognition. Scott Cawthon, you are an awesome guy. And EA? What the hell, guys. What. The hell. Your own stupid poll showed you a Star Wars pack had the LEAST amount of interest from your players. The least. And you looked at that poll and said, “But we have all these assets left over from the Star Wars game we made, and we can package them into the Sims and make you pay for them without having to do practically any work at all. Trust us, you’ll love it.”

We don’t love it, EA. I realize you don’t care and Madden pays your gaming bills anyway, so even if I and every other Sims player were to print out a thousand copies of this rant and mail it to you, you wouldn’t care enough to use it as toilet paper, but we don’t love it. We really don’t. I hope you wake up hungry in the middle of the night and go downstairs and make yourself the best sandwich ever made, and I hope you step on a Lego as you’re taking it back upstairs, and I hope you drop your sandwich while you’re hopping around on one foot, and I hope your dog eats your perfect sandwich, and I hope you have to eat dry old crackers because now you’re all out of sandwich fixings, and I hope your dog hogs the blankets and blows sandwich farts at you while you have to try and sleep with cracker crumbs all over the bed and they weren’t even very good crackers.

Okay, so…just a reminder, new chapter’s up. Enjoy. I’ll be over here on the Dark Side, embracing my hatred and snapping my fingers to see if I can generate force-lightning yet.

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Bonnie had never been too sure just how good human hearing was, but he knew he could hear Yoshi through the window and he knew sound traveled both ways, so he gave it a few seconds to let the man walk away and while he was waiting, Foxy said, “Ye all right, lass?”

“Why is everyone asking me that?” she demanded tersely, still without lifting the arm she had draped over her eyes. “I had a couple puffs and a couple shots. I have been way more fucked up than that before. Right in front of you, in fact. Didn’t I pass out half-naked in the fucking ball pit with you once? Wait…did I? Or did I dream that one?”

“Aye, ye did it. And I’m thinking that ain’t the best example ye want to be offering as proof of how all right ye are because ye were half-seas over and three to the wind and nearly got yer fool self killed half a dozen different ways that night.”

Now she raised her arm, but only just enough to give Foxy a sour stare and drop it again. She sighed, then let her hands smack down on the floor to either side of her. She tried to sit up. When Freddy reached out a supporting hand, she shrugged it off. He accepted that for now, but watched her closely until she was on her feet and steady.

Freddy turned his hands over and stared, troubled, into his palms. Chica tapped her fingers. Bonnie looked at Foxy, who was watching Ana shuffle over to the office. When Foxy noticed Bonnie’s attention, he glanced back. Their eyes held as Ana went into the other room and tried to close the door behind her. She didn’t quite pull hard enough; the door bounced off the catch and swung slowly open a few inches, just enough so that a stripe of Ana’s bare back could have been seen if Bonnie and Foxy weren’t staring each other down instead.

“Ana,” said Freddy heavily.

The ghost of Bonnie’s heart jumped inside his battery case. He turned his back on Foxy to grab at Freddy, shaking his head imploringly.

“Yeah?” Ana called.

“About last night—”