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mw2

Modern Warfare 2 owns my soul. She’s a selfish, vindictive mistress, but a mistress nonetheless. “Come play with me now,” She says, “if you don’t, I shall withhold my birthing properties forever.” If your copy of MW2 doesn’t say this to you, we are obviously not playing the same game.

Maybe she doesn’t say those exact words, per se. However, the feeling in my gut is that all too familiar feeling telling me “just one more bite won’t kill me.” Next thing I know my stomach is generating far too much acid, giving me perpetual heart burn, which is a telltale sign of morbid obesity.

 

 

“Just one more match” turns into “I’ll only play till I level,” which inevitably turns back into “just one more match.” Since its release I’ve played one or two rounds of firefight in Halo 3: ODST and that was only to help some folks get some achievements. But when it comes to my personal gaming time, it has been MW2. It owns my soul.

It’s not just the multiplayer either. I spent a good part of last week getting all the campaign achievements and some of the spec ops achievements. I’m coming dangerously close to feeling sorry for myself. I’ve always felt sorry for fanboys. It’s my greatest fear that I’m becoming one.

Even as irritated as I was that I never had the chance to do Makarov in, I can’t help but feel forgiveness in my heart for such a callously, cold hearted move. I felt like Infinity Ward was my (fictitious) girlfriend and she cheated on me… by sleeping with 12 guys… at once… in front of a camera… for a major porn distributor… and made me watch it to critique her performance. And you know what? Somehow I’m okay with that.

Maybe it was how elated I was when Price punched me in the face and pointed that assault rifle directly at my eyeballs, but Oh Em Gee, do I ever feel completion in that small orifice in my heart that belongs solely for videogames.

I feel sick to my stomach. I’m blindly defending the game even though it cut me deep and I’ll likely just as blindly defend it’s faults. Its happening isn’t it? Its going to be like that time growing up when my brothers asked me if Zelda: Ocarina of Time would be enhanced by CGI cinemas or at the very least voice acting and I said “No. It’s perfect as it is.”

What have you done Infinity Ward? You’ve ruined me. You let those gross strange men run a train on you and now I’m actually trying to convince my mom that you’re good people. I’m a broken shell of a man. How dare you?

What did you just say to me?

Okay. Just one round.