ubercharged.net

It was a sunny, beautiful day. The noise of the distant morning commute could be heard for miles, and the wind swept throughout the outskirts of town. The grass grew, the birds flew, and the sun shone.

However, there was nothing beautiful about the carnage taking place during that day. The sun itself was a witness to yet another bloodbath spilled daily near the two bases owned by two major corporations.

There was a ferocious battle taking place in Dustbowl. BLU team was pushing into RED territory, and RED soon found itself holding on desperately to their last control point. The Heavy had waddled his way back into a corner of the control point with the Medic strafing around him to prevent any future backstabs. The Soldier and the Demoman were waiting at the entrance for the enemy. The Engineer was already fixing up his buildings in a snug little corner. And the  Spy and Pyro were making their regular rounds about the possible entrance routes.

As arrows flew and the Spy came back with the smell of burnt hair and clothing, the Heavy noticed the BLU sniper was aggressively attacking him with his new weapons. However, where was their sniper? And where’s that little baby man?

None of this, though, bothered the two gentlemen who had ditched the action for the relative peace at Gravelpit. In fact, they were sitting on a control point miles away, having their own little picnic.

The Sniper got out merely because of an excuse about his bladder. After convincing the Medic that all he needed was a trip to the bathroom (and not surgical removal with the bonesaw), he hopped into his van and sped off to rendezvous with the Scout, who complained that his ball had flown out of the fence and he had to go retrieve it. Poor excuses, but nobody missed the two. The battle went on without them.

So it was, the Sniper and the Scout having a dainty little picnic under the shade from their umbrella.

“Beer?”

“Nah. I prefer tacos.”

The two sat back, listening to the noises of gunfire and explosions in the distance. Occasionally, the Sniper would go on a high perch and “fire” off a few arrows in the general direction of the noises while the Scout would hit his balls (he found a couple of Sandmen on the way). That way, they could claim that they were “part of the action.”

Crunch, crunch

The Sniper’s ear quickly picked up on the noise. He quickly reached under the picnic blanket for his kukri.

Instead of an open confrontation, he received a faceful of gravel that stung his face.

“Hey!”

The Scout brushed at his face, upset at the annoyance. “Gravel? What a nuisance!”

Suddenly, a BLU spy appeared right before their eyes. Dressed in a blue pinstripe suit, he looked far too well-cut to kick gravel in somebody’s face. He carried a gold watch in his left hand, instead of his normal gray watch. He looked at the duo with sheer disgust.

The Spy sneered. “Haw haw haw, what are you going to do? Run five miles and shoot me?”

“Ye-; No…” The Sniper was at a loss for words. How did he know? With his severely underpowered submachine gun, he could not fight at close range combat effectively. His kukri was ineffective at dealing with someone who actually knew how to fight hand-to-hand.

The Scout, however, had no trouble dealing with those “dime-a-dozen backstabbing scumbags.” With a single blast of his scattergun, the sneering gentleman instantly fell to the ground. And died.

The Sniper took off his hat to pay his respects. How often did the Spy go down so quickly?

“Not often enough.”

The last thing the Sniper saw was a silver revolver with a huge barrel and engravings on its side. He also heard the Spy’s signature cackle, the laugh that told him that he had been backstabbed once again. How did he know?

And then the blood poured out from his head.

* * *

The Sniper sat in his van, feeling miserable at his failure. Not only did a BLU spy dispatch him and the Scout, he had been chastised severely for playing hooky. Obviously, somebody noticed and tattled, although it might have been one of those cameras that she installed everywhere, from the dorms to the latrines.

How did she know?

He remembered the chastisement from the Announcer. He had been summoned after he and the Scout bought some tacos from the taco truck outside of their dorms.

*FZZT* SNIPER PLEASE REPORT TO THE OFFICE *FZZT*

He knew what to expect. The middle-aged lady sat in her arm chair, back facing the Sniper. The lack of lighting only made it seem more ominous. The stench of her cigarette was overpowering.

“Tell me, why did you skip out on the match?”

The Sniper’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Well?”

He scratched his head. Time to use the excuse that he had used so often. “Well…nobody seems to think much of me, ma’am. I mean, they claim I hang back too much, and-”

She waved and cut him off. “I’ve given you two unlockables already. The Huntsman and the Razorback. If you can’t make use out of them, then I don’t see what use I can make out of you!”

She paused. “Get out, and do NOT disappoint me again.“

Now the Sniper was lying on his bed. He couldn’t confront his teammates. Not after he had ditched them. His only refuge now was the pile of comics he had under his bed. Superman, Batman, he loved them. None of them had the merits of Saxton Hale, though.

Saxton Hale. The Australian Alan Quartermaine. That handsome, muscular man with the large amounts of chest hair and incredibly short cut-off pants. He was his childhood hero, his idol and model. And like the Hank Aaron poster in the Scout’s dorm, he had posters of him. Pictures, flyers, comics, even fanfic that he never dared to publish. Whenever the Sniper had a bad day or just plumb was in a bad mood, he turned to Saxton Hale for answers.

He started flipping through his comic book. And there he found his answer.

It was a comic. And not just an ordinary one. It had somebody just like him, bullied around by a troublesome BLU spy. And on the second row, he saw himself, reading a similar comic. It was him, discovering Jarate.

Just like how I am learning about it now breathed the Sniper in amazement.

Suddenly, he yelped. He kicked a chair across the room. It was all coming to him now. And something happened just then -

He remembered everything. From the ancient Aborigines, he saw the ancient art in his head now. From the ancient ancestors of long past, he understood the guarded secret. And from the Australian blood in his veins, he felt a connection to Saxton Hale – the Australian Chuck Norris. This message was a god-send, and he was now a prophet.

I’ll never have to worry about lack of urinary privileges ever again! thought the Sniper as he cut out the order form and put in the $5 from the allowance money Mum sent him.

* * *

The box came to the Sniper almost two days after he sent the order in. In it were Saxton Hale Jarate pills, a trophy, and a couple of jars. However, the Sniper didn’t read the instructions. Even worse, he didn’t even read the part about the Saxton Hale Pain Tonic. It wasn’t in the box.

The Sniper downed the pills. Within seconds, he felt something near his sides expand. The size of his kidneys tripled as expected. They started filtering his liquid wastes like never before!

After a minute, he had completely filled all four jars. And he still needed more.

He had to keep it a secret though. After all, the instructions had told him to keep this secret art to himself for reasons of “public health and decency.”

It wasn’t easy. He saw the Announcer pop a few aspirins and a few forehead veins after he ran out of a briefing mid-meeting. The Heavy looked at him with an odd look on his face, troubled by the Sniper’s constant running in and out of the dining hall. He told the Engineer to take his night-watchman post, as he could not stay for a few seconds before having to urinate again.

I really gotta buy more jars thought the Sniper as he walked to his van to take a trip to the local convenience store.

Hours later, the Medic came across the moaning and mumbling Sniper, clutching his chest as if he wanted to rip his organs out.

* * *

The Sniper woke up to a world of aches and pains. He felt as if a million little Spies were inside him, puncturing his organs with their butterfly knives. It felt as if his organs were shutting down. He was bedridden and had to be kept under watch 24/7 to prevent his symptoms from getting worse. Only the Sniper’s glassy, pitiful eyes prevented the good Doc from satisfying his curiosity on him.

“He looks awful.”

“Musta been the tacos.”

The Sniper took the trash can and vomited for the 14th time in the day. And most of that vomit was blood, too.

Being between life and death and teetering towards the latter, he thought of his Mum and his Dad. He thought of past memories on the range, living on his own in the outback before he had been taken away to fight for RED. Most importantly, though, he thought of his friends, his teammates that he had abandoned. He should’ve helped him – after all, he was of some importance, right?

“Maybe I should’ve been a doctor like Dad said,” groaned the Sniper as he gave in to his exhaustion.

* * *

White. Was he in heaven? All he could see was white.

He blinked. No. It was some sort of material. What was it?

A paper. It was familiar. As the light reached the Sniper’s eyes, he saw that it was quite colorful. The morning light was going through the paper, filtering the colors from the other side.

He turned it over. It was that same comic, the one he had read back in his trailer. Before he had gotten himself into this mess with that Jarate crap.

How could you, Saxton Hale?

Looking closely at the paper though, he saw discrepancies. The first part of the comic was just the way it was before. However, in the last part of the comic, he saw that the original drawings had been scribbled over. In its place was a crude drawing of figure reminiscent of the BLU Spy. Underneath his feet was a corpse with a knife sticking out of the back. And that corpse was on a hospital bed…

No…

He heard a chuckle. He heard the flicking of a knife. He heard it too often. And for once, he found himself helpless. Even scared.

The BLU Spy flicked his knife once more as he advanced on the bed, carrying with him a sinister aura. The Sniper swore that he could fit a slice of watermelon in the Spy’s smile.

The Sniper got off the bed and backed away. The adrenaline was pumping within him now. He took out his kukri. If he was going to die, he would with his face to the enemy.

The Sniper glared at the Spy. “How did you get in here?”

The Spy smirked. “Your poor fat friend was obviously distracted with his disgusting food. The Sandviches. When I killed him, he found three other sandviches just lying around. Fat got his tongue.”

He lit a cigarette. “I see that you’ve resorted to desperate measures just to defeat me. You disgust me. You were so gullible, falling for that lowbrow ruse I called Jarate.”

The Sniper’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“I sneaked into your trailer. I gave you something from your so-called childhood hero, Saxton Hale, who is obviously in financial trouble. I mean, who would charge people $5 just to teach them how to piss in a jar?

“The truth is, I did it to humiliate you. What would the world think of a the great “Adelaide Assassin”? He now pisses in a jar just to defeat someone like me!” The Spy’s laugh rang throughout the room. “You’re nothing, you don’t stand a chance against me. And the world will finally see the fool in you. And I will finally be known as the best class in the world!”

Then, once again, he disappeared.

Blood pounded in the Sniper’s head. What am I going to do? His teammates were gone, he was alone with a kukri against a skilled assassin. He rushed out of the room in sheer panic.

“You can run, but you can’t hide!” rang out a voice somewhere near the Sniper.

He rushed down the hallway. As much as his sides ached, he had to keep going. he didn’t know where to go, or what to do when he got there. His legs just carried him.

“What are you going to do? Run 20 meters and shoot me?”

The Sniper burst into the lab room, where the Medic usually operated on his hapless subjects. He bolted the door and sat on the blood-stained operating table, gasping for breath. There was nothing he could do…

I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die-

“Peekaboo!”

An arm snaked out of nowhere and slashed at the Sniper. Had it not been for the Sniper’s quick reflexes, he would’ve received more than just a facial wound. Nevertheless, the shock of it all drove the Sniper back into a row of shelves, where the Medic was studying the Sniper’s urine samples.

The Sniper, bloodied and battered, looked up above him.

Take it…

As if on instinct, the Sniper snatched a jar from the shelf. What am I going to do with this jar of urine?

Use it…

“Maybe they should bury you in that van you call home!” cackled the Spy as he raised his knife for the kill.

Now!

The Sniper tossed the jar of urine. As it arched across the room, the Spy’s smirk was quickly replaced by one of shock. It was then replaced with a look of fear.

The jar shattered as the Spy received a faceful of the Sniper’s liquid bodily wastes. The urine stained the Spy’s Hugo Boss suit. There was a sound of electricity, and then the Spy was fully uncloaked.

“Is this…?!” cried the Spy in anguish.

With the last ounce of his strength, the Sniper stabbed the Spy with his kukri. Before the Spy died, though, he gave the Jarate master a look of agony, a look of the deepest hate that one could possibly possess.

The Spy spat out these last words through his gritted teeth: “I HATE -”

The Sniper took out his kukri and the Spy fell to the ground covered in the Sniper’s urine and his own blood.

The Adelaide Assassin paid his respects.

* * *

The following days passed quickly. After finding the Spy’s cache of Saxton Hale Pain Tonic Pills (which he took from the box before it was delivered to the Sniper), he quickly recovered.

The Medic didn’t get to satisfy his curiosity. However, the Sniper’s incredibly effective kidneys never ceases to amaze the Medic.

The RED and BLU Spy’s disgust for the Sniper only grew. “Filthy jar man,” they would mutter behind the Sniper’s back.

Thanks to the Sniper’s ingenious new weapon, he could now fight effectively at close-range. He would toss his jar of urine at the enemies. They would cower in fear and lose the will to live. They would die either from the Sniper’s kukri or from the bullets of his teammates. And even if they escaped, it would haunt every living, waking moment of their lives.

Even better, everybody was now grateful to the Sniper for saving his life when the Engineer accidentally left the task of grilling burgers to the Pyro. They were all a little disgusted, but nevertheless, grateful. And the Sniper quickly learned that he was now a team player, and that friendship is indeed golden.

After a day of chucking his jars around, the Sniper retired to the trailer. On his desk was not only a picture of his parents, but also a jar of urine.

And if you look closely enough in the yellowish fluid, you can see the smiling, rugged muscular Australian man who turned the Sniper into a weapon of mass destruction. It’s cheap, it’s found everywhere, it’s easily used -

It’s Jarate.

Over my hours of TF2, I’ve amassed quite a list of quibbles about the game. Most of them are inconsequential, and others would probably start World War III if published, but some changes are fairly benign and long overdue. These changes would be great to have around, but would not significantly affect gameplay or class balance. Most are interface changes.

All would be wonderfully convenient.

sv_alltalk 2

One of the reasons many clans and scrim teams shell out money for Ventrilo servers (or the like) during pick-up games and matches is that Ventrilo allows dead players to talk to the living. This is as opposed to the standard sv_alltalk 0, which permits living players of a team to talk to each other, but prohibits dead players from talking to the living.

Ventrilo, though, has some issues. For one, the volume is often terrible, and in-game, it is nigh impossible to tell who’s talking, except with the obtrusive Ventrilo overlay which covers half the bloody screen. The in-game voice chat already has unobtrusive overlay support built in, complete with an indicator if the teammate who is speaking is dead; in addition, the volume is equalized with game sounds.

That’s why I’m suggesting the inclusion of a third possible value for the sv_alltalk CVAR: sv_alltalk 2, which allows dead players to talk to living players of the same team. Shouldn’t be hard to implement, and it would be utterly awesome for those folks hoping to host pickup games and the like without the headache of ventrilo servers.

In the meantime, if anyone knows a SourceMod plugin that implements this functionality, I’d love to hear about it. Leave a comment, and I’ll be deeply grateful.

sv_allchat

sv_allchat would do pretty much the same thing as sv_alltalk, except it would apply to chats only. Through this, dead players could send messages to living players.

ian.cammarata already implemented this in SourceMod, and it would be great if it could actually be incorporated into the game.

Steam Friends chat API

I use steam friends chat quite extensively, but I always am slightly miffed by Steam itself. Having an open API for steam friends would allow one to use their own program of choice for accessing friends, but would remove the option of launching games. It has some advantages:

• Portability: by linking in to apps like Portable Pidgin, one could theoretically access steam chat on any computer. That’s pretty awesome.
• Extensibility: combined with “custom status” (see below), this could be pretty awesome. New skins, automatically generated statuses (e.g. the standard “Currently listening to:” status), and other such things would be great.
• Efficiency: On the machine I’m on right now (not the one I use for gaming), Steam takes about two minutes to start up. Yes, this relic from 1999 is really quite slow. Very often, opening the community tab makes the computer hang. However, Pidgin loads in seconds and doesn’t noticeably slow down the computer. Sorry, Valve, but something is seriously wrong with Steam if it’s written that inefficiently. For this computer, running TF2 is a wet dream, but that’s fine with me, because I just want to access Steam friends here. Yet I can just barely do that.
• Security: this is where things get a little bit sketchy. However, if every account could have two different passwords – one to access Steam friends alone, and the other to allow games and administration, this could easily be avoided. Another option would be to have the friends-only password to be automatically generated. An even easier solution would be to just ignore this and let the user use their better judgment when giving their password to IM programs.

Steam Friends: Custom statuses

Because it sure beats “playing” a “game” with a funny name.

See yourself when smoothing or driving through demos

Right now, you can’t see yourself (that is to say, your player model) when you are driving or smoothing through demos recorded from your own perspective. It admittedly looks quite strange when I’m driving through my own demos  – seeing a grenade appear out of nowhere and proceed to frag someone is altogether unexpected.

Obviously, my suggestion here is to allow one to see one’s own player model when going through demos in this manner. Frag video makers, rejoice!

Left 4 Dead-style Interface changes

L4D certainly built on TF2’s online experience and heavily improved it. Methinks it’s time for some of those changes to come back to L4D’s older brother.

Just like one can do in L4D (though that system is slightly glitchy), it would be great if one could obtain a listing of servers belonging to the steam groups they were a part of.

Also, the current “Friends” tab in the server browser is kind of ridiculous, because it isn’t easy to see which friend is playing on a particular server-the only way is to right click and view the server’s info. L4D, admittedly, does a great job with that, listing friends and their respective games. For the standard pubber, a “quick game” option, a la L4D, would be pretty cool too.

Naturally, in all of these suggestions, I recommend that the standard server browser be left in.

Reset specific stats

Rather than wiping everything, wouldn’t it be nice to rid the world of that 9000-kill streak on a farming server, while retaining the memory of that 20-stab spree on Badwater? I certainly think so.

Steam Friends: Notification options

Minor quibbles here. I think it would be quite nice to specify different notification behaviors when one is playing a game and when one isn’t. For instance, let’s say that when I’m online (not in-game), I do not want the notification that comes up at the bottom-right of my screen when I receive a message (I have my reasons for not liking it, when I’m carrying out multiple conversations, or when I’m trying to work, it gets fairly obtrusive and irritating. However, when I’m in-game, it is essential to have that, so that I can know if I have received a message.

Yes, this is fairly inconsequential, but hopefully not too hard to implement.

* * *

Without touching core gameplay, these changes would heavily improve the user experience. I hope to see them soon.

Just a short time ago I came here asking for assistance in the plight of the Xbox 360 player of Team Fortress 2.  I was hesitant, to understate things, because PC gamers have what I thought was a well warranted reputation for being elitist snobs when it comes to their favorite things.

“Stubborn to budge or be helpful in everything except the advancement of their own agenda,” was my definition of the average PC gamer.  I did not come to this conclusion by the guidance of others; it was formed in my own mind following various experiences with their kind.

A seperate species I considered us two, like the monkey and the man.  Similar in shape, but different in mannerisms.  The console gamer was much more thoughtful, much more tolerant, it seemed.  I expected little help from the PC crowd, save maybe a signature or two.

Instead, do you see what has happened?  No less than 200 signatures in less than two days stating that the PC gamer understands, and not only that, is willing to risk the delayed arrival of their next update, for the sake of Valve’s focus on the Xbox 360 update until its deliverance.

It is shocking, to be honest, and the waves of shame still rock my body.  Never before have I been proven so profoundly wrong at an assumption.  I beg your forgiveness, my PC brethren, for my (formerly) hidden bias!

But it doesn’t stop there.  Unbidden by me, the Xbox players began setting things in motion that were inspired by the message.

Since the posting of my last article on Ubercharged, there has been a Facebook group founded to advance the movement, and, believe it or not, a Youtube video has been made that mentions the petition!

Now, the other end of those links may be misguided and have false information in some parts, but the fact that they exist astounds me.  I did not ask for this, it came naturally.  It is because of this, the unified forward motion of both groups of gamers, that I feel we are destined to succeed.

How can Valve see these things and not be moved to action?

I assure you that they cannot, and it is because of you that this has happened.  What an unprecedented merging of the minds.

———————

In case it wasn’t stated very blatantly, I have had a revelation and no longer believe those things I mention about PC gamers.

This is an article that’s been brewing for a long time. There’s a billion articles telling you to thank people on this site, and recently complaining about the unlocks has gotten a little absurd. Just look at all that fuss over the Sandman. There is one thing you need to know, and you need to know it now.

(credit to loafaries for the image)

What’s that? You’re helping your team? Well thank you for doing what you’re supposed to be doing.  There is nothing wrong with giving some thanks, but you know what? Valve did that FOR you. Everytime you take a teleporter, your character thanks the Engie. Every time you get healed, your character thanks the Medic. Bind “thanks” to a key all you want, but when you actually threaten to stop doing your job until a Soldier stands still, fumbles with his keyboard, and gets sniped every time you point your mouse in his direction, you need to stop being such a brat.

Every member of your team is helping. Mr-Hyper-Sandman-Scout is helping by stopping people shooting at you and distracting the enemy. Mr-Kill-Streak-Soldier is helping your team by stopping you from getting overrun by enemies. Mr-Very-Paranoid-Pyro is helping keeping Spies away and causing fear and confusion in the enemies. Mr.Downright-Deranged-Demoman is stopping them from easily getting to key areas. Are you getting the point yet? Every class is helping out, not just the Medic and the Engineer. If you see yourself as some kind of martyr, playing a class just to help out and whining at your teammates for not being more vocally grateful, then you need to go play a class you DO enjoy. Some people actually genuinely enjoy Medic and Engineer.
The second this is a little more obvious- valve didn’t sell you this game as being updated and having cool new weapons fit in. None of the new weapons are so overpowered as to make it impossible to play without them. And if they’re “so awful” then go back to playing with the old ones! They haven’t “ruined” the Sniper, because you can still use all the old weapons. No one is forcing you to use Jarate, you whiners.

So yes, thanking people is nice. It’s  polite thing to do, and reflects that if you only cared about yourself you’d be doing something that’s better for your points. But it is NOT mandatory, and you should NEVER punish people for not doing it, because they’re helping too. And while it’s okay to point out whether you like or dislike something Valve has done, remember that they’re doing this all out of the kindness of their hearts, and they DO listen to the fans.

As many of us know, the TF2 is based in 1968, in some rural areas (usually) of the United States (despite both of the sides being world-wide leaders in industry). Nine mercenaries were hired to fight over a variety of objectives and locations (for reasons unexplained,). We got a speedy Scout, simple Soldier, publicly dangerous Pyro, drunken Demoman, entrenched Engineer, huge Heavy Weapons Guy, maniacal Medic, steady Sniper, and the sly Spy. Two teams use variety of home-made weapons and respawn rooms. Some med-kits and ammo boxes here and there, for the war to go on as well. And, finally – the Announcer, the ominous voice. Ah, the simplicity of existence in a simple, sunny world… right?

Now, don’t take my word for it (or you’ll see me in the off-world mining colony) – but this is all too damn fishy. First of all – the war itself. It appears that the mercenaries often fight each other in control of something – something only Announcer knows everything about. Those locations are almost of no importance to a naked eye. Yes, there is a giant laser in Gravel Pit – but it doesn’t do anything in the time of the battle or once one of the teams achieves success. Those briefcases loose empty pieces of paper. The rockets don’t seem to do anything as well, beyond being there. The cart just blows up some kind of toxic waste – nothing important to a logical mind.

Then, we have the employers and the Announcer. We don’t know who those ominous corporations are. They control most of the world. And they fight each other when bureaucracy doesn’t work. But what are the problems? Why do they want those battles to be fought and the actions to be committed? Why is there no one else, anywhere? Then, there is the train… but is there anyone inside? Why is it indestructible? And finally… who is the Announcer? Why do we never see her? Why does she never have any effect on us? And why do both sides hear her… but differently?

Next – what is the relevance of “I have no mouth, and I must scream” to this subject? That story follows 5 characters that are doomed to forever be tormented by a computer who destroyed the entire human race, and only keeps those five for brutal entertainment of itself, by forcing them to feel humiliation over and over. Through cloning, life-support, and virtual reality, they are forever stuck with their memories. The computer controls their lives and they cannot escape. They cannot die, as they are cloned, again and again.

What it is and what it seems.

But what is the relevance of this to TF2? What if all of those characters don’t exist. No, there is no Scout. No Engineer. No Pyro or Soldier. What if there are 9 to 18 men and women, stuck in some laboratory, under the control of the omnipresent computer, who forces them to collide together in the numerous battles of the endless? Their memories are false and were created by the computer. And they will keep those memories, for as long as they are inside this virtual world. And thus they will fight with each other, in that false time. At those non-existent places. Unless… someone will save them.

Of course, this “Game” has connections to the psychology of human and non-biological beings. First of all – the Pyro. The “players” who “play” as Pyro, are women. But due to the computers apparent Matriarchal view (which is also shown through the announcer figure, most likely to be the computer itself), they lost their feminine side in the “game” – thus, producing the Pyro. Then, there are “Domination and Dominated” parts of the “game”. Being dominated is one of the most humiliating things, beside pain (both physical, emotional, and psychological) the “players” endure. But there is nothing more dangerous than falling from a height – and once you loose your domination over someone, you will feel the humiliation, even more painful than if you were dominated. Thus, creating a vicious circle of humiliation. To keep the “players” mentally “fresh”, their memories are blocked, every time they respawn. Thus, they can never find out what they are in the “game”, and not in the real world.

She’s watching you.

What if they are on Borealis? What if they are part of the experiment conducted by Aperture Science? If not, who created this? Is it GlaDOS, who believes that it attained the level of gods? What if the Left 4 Dead survivors are there as well? Could this be a part of Half-Life 2: Episode 3? Maybe. Maybe…

There are those of you here who would rather ignore us.  They are those of you here that think we are second-class Team Fortress 2 players.  Maybe we are, but either way, we exist.

We are the Xbox 360 players.

We have been lied to, beaten down, and neglected.  Whereas the PC version of Team Fortress 2 is nearing its 100th update/patch, the Xbox 360 has recieved three minor patches, the last of which was a fix for an earlier one.

Valve has told us our day is coming, but in the latest news update from Valve stated that “all the additional TF2 content we’ve produced has pushed well beyond [the RAM limit.]”

Why does this worry me?  Because it is a physical barrier that may not be surmountable by any means.  Certainly, with the cabal being focused mainly on updating the PC version, the solution may never come, or may not be completed until Valve is “done” updating the PC version.

I am willing to accept this barrier, and realize that, because of it, some content might not ever reach us.  However, certain content could be released to us that would not affect the RAM limit.  Namely, the nineteen new maps and corrections to original weapons and items would not do this.

So far, the Xbox 360 community has shown overwhelming support for this mini-update as soon as possible, even if it were to cost more than $10.

The question is, are you compassionate enough to allow the TF2 cabal enough time to compile this update for us XBox 360 gamers?

If you are, please sign this petition, set up on my own site, that will eventually be sent to Valve.  It does not require an account, so it shouldn’t take more than half a minute.

It would make a big difference to the Xbox community.

Show your nice side and help friends in need.

Good evening. I am here today to talk to you about something that’s foremost in all of our minds this update week; Unlockable Items. Now of course, the big ticket item this week is the Sandman. Unfortunately, due to the new update system, many boys and girls are going to be very disappointed when they unlock a weapon this week. I, however, will not be disappointed; for you see, I have 3 Sandmen…

So what do I do first? Do I stun an enemy? Do I attempt to do a taunt kill? Do I laugh at other Scouts double jumping? The answer is of course, yes. Because, I have 3 Sandmen…

I have one for CTF maps, one for CP maps, and one for PL maps. Why? Because I have 3 Sandmen…

Now I realise that while I have 3 Sandmen, some of you out there may actually have a Sandman of your own, and be thoroughly enjoying your unlock. But, imagine how I must feel, with 3 Sandmen. I think you’ll find that I am enjoying it three times as much…

Now some of you may be thinking, “It’s okay; I didn’t really want a Sandman anyway.” And that’s true; it is okay, because you aren’t getting one. While I, conversely,  have 3 Sandmen…

Let me put it like this: Imagine you have one chocolate bar, and I have 3 chocolate bars. This is like that; except, you have no chocolate bars, and I have 3 Sandmen. Also, I have this chocolate bar…

I only have two Cloak and Daggers, but I have 3 Sandmen…

Is it worth it to have 3 Sandmen when I have a broken mouse? Well I submit to you that, in time, I will get a better mouse, whereas you will never have 3 Sandmen…

Now you may be trying to cover for your lack of Sandman by unlocking Jarate. You may even say that using Jarate is just as much fun as using the Sandman. This is obviously the talk of somebody who does not have 3 Sandmen…

This graph illustrates how many Sandmen I have versus how many Sandmen you have. As you can see, your column has zero Sandmen. Whereas I have 3 Sandmen…

And so, I will leave you with these simple words to consider this update week: I have 3 Sandmen…

***

Yeah, this was a joke article. But when I got the third Sandman, I couldn’t let this opportunity go. For those of you who do not understand this article, then you clearly do not have 3 PS3’s…

The sniper has been having a few health problems of late.

So the medic had him fill out a quick self-help diagnosis.

Apparently it’s a result of all the Jarate practice he’s been doing.

Imagine you are an 8 year old kid. Your dad spends weeks telling you how great your Birthday presents are going to be. You spend days wondering what they will be and he lets you shake a different box every day. He had always given you awesome gifts in the past.

The day finally comes and you get in the car with him to go get a cake. Once you are on the highway, your dad takes out brass knuckles, beats the s*** out of you, and kicks you out of the car. Then, hurt and angry, you walk back to your house. When you get there you see all your friends leaving the house with your awesome presents. You see your dad and he hands you 3 of the same video game you got last year. When you ask him what is going on he tells you he is giving them to you to trade with your friends.

All your friends bought this game too but when you go to try to leave the house to try to trade with them your dad locks you in the basement.

Right here goes my rant: I wait until the update finishes downloading, and I eagerly awaited the new unlock system that would give me weapons in no time at all. I play and play – for 8 hours straight and unlocked some great achievements.
During those 8 hours of game play, I only got 1 weapon out of it. Another f****** Sandman that I had ‘hacked’ months ago! At this point, I threw my keyboard into the wall beside me. God damn it, I was hoping for a random system, but this is too random. I don’t want to grind, I don’t want another Sandman or Flaregun. On top of this, AFK people in spawn got weapons, people spectating got weapons and people who died copiously got weapons. I just want all them too!
The last system worked perfectly, but it was flawed because it supposedly had ‘too much grinding involved’. I loved it – because I had fun unlocking them; trying to get taunt kills and do other odd things with my lovable Heavy, Pyro, Medic and Scout. I now have to grind even more – what’s the logic in that? What makes me even more angry that this is like teasing a child with a lollypop.

Valve: If you are reading this, just dish all of the unlockables out on release. Problem solved.

EDIT: Update’s broken.