Disclaimer: The opinions expressed within this column are those of the participants and the moderator, and do not necessarily reflect those of the GIA. There is coarse language and potentially offensive material afoot. I'd like to say 'Thank you' on behalf of the group and ourselves and I hope we passed the audition. Don't say we didn't warn you.

That's right, readers. We're celebrating DA's final curtain with five-way Agent-on-Agent action -- A,B,C,D and E, together at last for the column's final celebration of cynicism, snarkiness and sodomy! Like ammonia, chlorine bleach, tetramethrin, lime and sulfuric acid, we are five great tastes that taste great together! Free drinks at the rail.

Brooke: I've already said goodbye once, it's 3 in the morning British time, and my inbox has 147 new messages from you people in it. So for the duration of the column I'll be speaking in emoticons and fangirl Japanese. All good things - Calvin and Hobbes, chocolate bunnies, MST3K - must come to an end. Otherwise they become moldy, or at worst, Garfield.

Drew: You know, I told myself I was going to think up the wittiest, snappiest intro of my career today. Not only is this the final DA installment, I'm also being placed in direct competition with my fellow Agents. So I set myself to thinking, and 20 minutes later ended up with a picture of Squall if Squall was a bicycle being ridden by a pacifier. Oh well.

Chris:Truth is, I've always wanted to be part of a heroic, grandiose, last stand - to join together with a group of brave and honorable men and women and ride off into the sunset for one last, decisive battle that would be remembered throughout history, no matter what the outcome.

Instead, I get to write a column with these people. Sigh.

Allan: Back for one last column as a Double Agent. Huh. Who's have thought? Well, I guess it's time to remind all of you why that disclaimer up there was drafted in the first place.

Erin: Let's go.

Brooke: Zing!

Chris: Onward.

Drew: Let's get this show on the road.

Allan: Let's rock.

Chris: I just gotta admire this guy - since I'm assuming nobody could possibly be so stupid as to think we'd just turn the site over to the first random stranger who asked for it, I'm thinking he's just so self-confident that we couldn't possibly resist putting it in the hands of Mr. Balls o' Steel. Love the chutzpah, dude....

Allan: I would tell you that you'd best learn how to capitalize a fucking sentence properly before I'm liable to hand over several thousand dollars' worth of hardware, several legal documents, and countless hours of work over to you. But thanks for asking.

Drew: The last time I left important matters in the hands of a complete stranger was the time I paid a bum 5 dollars to watch my niece for a few hours. I won't repeat that mistake again....

I tried crazy-gluing her pieces back together, but my aunt saw right through it.

Brooke: ... and I WAS that niece. Thanks a shitload, Drew...

And don't forget to give me back my black t-shirt

Indeed, in these dire times, I can only think of one quote that fits this situation, from Ben Folds Five: "Give me my money back, you bitch!" Gimme a friggin' break! I'm sorry our donations didn't do enough to fund your condos in the Bahamas you capitalist pigs. But all of us donaters don't get OUR money back, damnit! This reeks of corporate scandal, I tell you. You're no better than Enron, becoming a huge money pit for those who supported you, all the while laughing to the bank! If I ever meet any of you, I'll make you eat my shit, then shit out my shit, then I'll make you eat the shit you just shit out but was originally the shit that I made you eat... But it goes deeper than that. It's like we readers have lost a child today: A money-grubbing, free-loading bossy child who always bitches about MegaTen games, but a child nontheless. Indeed, it's like The GIA is the retarded child of the internet kept solely alive by it's loving supporters, who have neither the heart nor the will to beat it to death with a rusty shovel. I for one, am glad to see the pain and suffering ended. Toodle-fucking-oo, ladies. - Dexplosivo P.S. - Just so you know, I'm still pissed about that "Final Fantasy Gaiden" prank you ballmunchers pulled. Have you no shame? This is what you get for screwing with your readership for a few cheap laughs. Bastards. R.I.P. GIA, 11/22/98 - 4/1/02... Wait, OH FUCK~!

Allan: I've been using the profits from this scam to invest in a midget farm in South Dakota. Little people, raised and customized to your tastes, on demand.

Brooke: I named mine Sparkles!

Chris: Wait, wait... Money? What money?

Drew: People get so huffy when you screw with their heads and toy with their emotions for cheap giggles. Lighten up, assholes.

Chris: Base facts, folks: the GIA server costs $1050 a month (expensive, but we move nearly a terabyte of data a month). We paid off two months debt, and since September we've paid for 8 more months, which adds up to a grand total of $10,500. Factor in our new HD and other hardware expenses, site renewal, and on-site technical support and the GIA doesn't have enough funds left over to embezzle a cheeseburger.

Drew: Ian, don't change the subject. The site's gone, and we have nowhere to keep you anymore. I have no choice but to release you into the wild, where you can once again be free. You probably won't last the hour, between ravenous predators and competition from your own kind, but hey -- shit happens.

Brooke: It was either that or blow your head off with a double-barreled shotgun, but I hate getting blood on myself

Chris: Cue Old Yeller music...

Allan: If we carry your body back to the Gameforms site, Ian, we can produce many Green Pikmin.

Erin: All of which I can lose in a reckless assault on that Smokey Progg summbitch....

Erin: Time? Is that what this is? And I was just about to send Drew after the fuckrag....

Chris: We've also fooled gullible sites such as Penny Arcade and Toastyfrog - it's amazing how easily people who've built up long-standing professional relationships with us will fall for long, drawn-out email conversations showing a deteriorating site and staff, and take you at your word when all of that finally gets pushed to the front. Idiots.

Brooke: Do not bother Chris, for he is quick to anger and you taste good with ketchup.

Allan: So. Terry. So sorry that you're not going to miss us. Really. My kitten just keeled over, right in my lap, at the news that you won't be missing the GIA. He always had a sensitive heart. But I hold no grudges. Because, really, bearing a grudge against you would be like wrestling a leper: easy enough, but hardly satisfying.

GIA did not cover Fire Emblem very well. Given that only one title in the series was developed while GIA was in operation, that seems somewhat reasonable to me. Nor did we talk about King's Field. This is probably because the entire series was insufferably dull, with the first-person perspective evoking the look and feel of classic PC RPGs like Might and Magic, yet totally lacking in charm, depth, or intelligence. Nor did we speak of Dragon Quest VIII - I'm sure that it would've been quite exciting for us to post twenty inteview quotes stating that yes, DQ8 will eventually come out, no details yet. Readers across the world could be enthralled by the lack of solid news. And my, how can we dispute your in-depth analysis of Morrowind, what with it not being released on X-Box yet and all? Why, to hell with this Gameforms crap! Lead us to the promised land, Terry! You alone can show us the path to glory!

So let's see, a man who's raving about the "strongest new RPG" that hasn't been released yet is lecturing me about being a syncophant. I'm a poseur. I'm a graphics whore. As are we all, here at GIA. This is, clearly, why we championed Vib Ribbon. This is why the extremely pretty Legend of Dragoon was savaged. This finally explains our obsessive coverage of the Megami Tensei series. We're whores. Let's be honest about it. We'll go down for anyone with twenty bucks and an opinion about video games. Form a line at the door.

Or maybe, just maybe, we were able to speak to the hundreds of thousands of people who have visited this page. I guess it's hard to see, from up there on the peak of the holy mountains. Maybe you should try getting the fuck down here with the rest of us. Down from where you put yourself as God to the gaming public, and ask what gamers, old and young, male and female, newbies and hardcore, would like to know more about. We did. Maybe we didn't do enough for some peoples' interests. Maybe we got it wrong. We gave it our best.

What's your excuse, asshole?

Chris: Fear not, boys and girls; the tattered remnants of the GIA will be reunited this May at E3, where we will drink the finest champagne, eat the finest burritos, and sleep in the crummiest motels imaginable.

Seriously, one of the odd things about having our staff scattered across the northern hemisphere is that we hardly ever get to see each other in person - this year's E3 will be somewhere between a wake for the GIA and a coming out party for Gameforms, and I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Drew: My favorite part of E3 is where I fall asleep inside of a hooker

Brooke: ...And I WAS that hook-..wait, no I wasn't.

Allan: The GIA did care. We loved our readers. Every one of them. Except you. You don't deserve love. Ever.

Chris: Seriously, Jason's got a point here. One thing he's missing, tho, is that this really and truly is the end: we have no site, and thus no longer have to worry about our credibility. The dead have no troubles. Looking back at things, it does seem odd that we'd pick today to drop this on people, but from our perspective this has been a long time coming, and above all else, it's good to have it over and done with.

I could also take the time to tell you what our real AFD joke was gonna be, but truth is, it's so damn good I'd just as soon hang on to it for a while.

Chris: Once more Parish says everything that needs saying and leaves me with nothing to say.

Bastard.

Brooke: And once again he doesn't send me his Nall plushie. Smug bastard.

Drew: It's heartwarming to know that I was, in some small way, responsible for something that threatened to consume another man's life. Without being bodily present, to boot. Until I finish my machine that lets me punch people over the telephone, that's about the best I can hope for.

Allan: Actually, the Atari 2600 port of FF7 was, in fact, cancelled. The basic gameplay was successfully ported over to Legend of Dragoon, though, so please see that review for further details.

I will admit, shamefully, that I never did review the first game preview I wrote for GIA: No One Can Stop Mr. Domino. I was afraid if I reviewed it, it would push down the news item below it, which would knock down another, and that one would hit still another, and so on, until the entire index page had been toppled off the Internet completely.

Brooke: OMG OMG I HEARD THAT AERIS CUMS BACK IN THIS ONE!!11 ITS TRUE!! RPGAMER SEZ SO!!

Allan: Well, it's clear that the only way that we can answer this letter is by looking... to Tibet. I've studied the mysticism of that small country for many a year now, and I've come to the conclusion that the true answer to why the GIA is shutting down can only be found by spiritual means, not rational.

Transport yourself to a small room. The walls are all red, as you sit back in a small chair, now aged into senility, as Andrew Vestal dances before you in his moogle suit. Yet your gaze is drawn to Erin, who stares at you listlessly.

Erin stares at you, and you feel like you've seen her before, even before you entered the Black Lodge. 'THEW ORLD ISSQ UARE,' she says, as she dances a sexy gypsy dance for you.

And then the dream ends, and all you know is that you're already dead, wrapped in plastic, and will never again see the sun.

Brooke: Don't worry honey. We'll get you a new GIA.

Chris: One with an untwistable stomach!

Erin:I will in fact be aboard as Gameforms' letters columnist. The carry-over staffers figured my third nipple would be helpful in garnering hits for the fledgling site.

Brooke: Is that garnering hits or garnering ... no, I can't say it.

Drew: That's not the only reason we want you around, Erin. How are we supposed to open beer bottles without your front teeth?

Chris: *sniff*... no Dutch guy ever said he loved me... *sniff*

Allan: Sadly, I have moved on from those days that looked bright in rosy hues, having found love and acceptance in the arms of a former prostitute, who loves me for who I am, and not how many Fire Emblem games I own.

Allan: Agreed.

Drew: Agreed.

Chris: Agreed.

Brooke: Agreed.

Erin: Agreed.

Closing Comments:

Erin: And now our revels are at an end, and I am thrust into the somber role of executioner; the straightman who has to bid DA goodbye, not only for myself, but for all of us -- something I am wholly unfit to do.

What to say? For four years the Double Agent was the GIA's man on the streets; the Everyman who brought gamerdom together to talk -- and to think -- about their obsession. Between Allan, Drew, Chris, Brooke and myself, we've devised an impossible slew of topics ranging from the trivial to the profound, and each of us has found his or her own niche, connected with his or her own flock of readers, and made a name for him or herself doing our own, unique (and usually distasteful) thing, but before any of us were Double Agents of the GIA, we were just bitchy, anal, obsessive gamers.

Now that the sun has set on a fan site that will never be forgotten -- a site whose immortality each of us geeks had a hand in , for crissakes -- and you know what...?

Nothing's changed.

And we'd have it no other way.

When the going gets rough, stick some Band-Aids on your pansy-ass thumbs, yo, and be sure to keep an eye on Gameforms. We'll see you around.

-Erin Mehlos, et al.