Disclaimer: The opinions expressed within this column are those of the participants and the moderator, and do not neccessarily reflect those of the GIA. There is coarse language and potentially offensive material afoot. Remember when we died? Don't say we didn't warn you.

Readers, readers, readers. Perhaps I have spoiled you; I actually enjoy receiving and replying to idiotic, inane letters and even vitriolic off-topic rants. I'm a sad little man, and the stupider the letter, the larger the potentially ego-inflating target. When somebody writes a genuinely thought-out, well-composed letter, I'm stuck with lameass responses like "Oh yeah? Well you suck!" or "Your mom." Conversely, when somebody writes in to whine about, say, FMV in videogames and how it ruins them, making the point with allusions to the original Batman movie and wrapping things up with a P.S. about how Metabolife sucks, it's open season. And in the end, I look the intellect.

Unfortunately, Nich is not like me, and your irreverent behavior got him upset. You should've saved all your childish responses one more day and sent them to me, where they would have been appreciated. And not only that, but porno sex-sim games already exist, so check and mate, jerks. You all thought you were so clever.

Well, I'd just about say the people have spoken. I received a good number of letters voting the Ragnarok/Eyes on Me segment as largest gaming gross-out ever, but I figured posting 3 made the point. I'd tend to say that I'd agree. Admittedly, my saying so is largely influenced by my biases: specifically, I @#$%ing hate that soft, wussy Celine Dion-ish garbage. (To put it eloquently.)

Okay, the scene was handled admirably well considering the manner in which games have treated romance in the past. And sure, it did serve as an excellent culminating point for the actual theme of the title. But dammit, you could have a couple of robots blowing shit up with guns the size of small buildings while hundreds of ninjas battled it out about the robots' giant feet, and that would seem kind of unsettling and fruity if Eyes on Me was the background track.

So, in the end, while I should have really enjoyed the Ragnarok scene, I was instead unsettled by it. Not as unsettled as I was the time Ed and I unwittingly saw The Talented Mister Ripley together, but unsettled nonetheless.

Okay, see, the classic NES false start could be classified as a number of things: frustrating. Obnoxious. Infuriating. Frustrating. However, it would definitely not be considered "disgusting." Apparently no one reading this column has a particularly accurate knowledge of the meaning of the word "disgusting." As a result, I'd say maybe 0.002% of the letters sent in actually comment on something genuinely revolting. So I end up printing stuff like this.

See, Pregnant Eve is actually something that qualifies as being disgusting. Good Job, SSJPabs. I think it's high time to dust off the ol' Sexalicious Award.

Remember, the Sexalicious Award is good for slimming, diets, boosting the immune system, supplying amino acids, minerals, and vitamins and aiding metabolism to burn and metabolize food effectively. Now in capsule form!

I really wish I could still get worked up enough about this to write up a humorously bitter rant. Unfortunately, I've responded to "you guys spoil!" letters so many times, I've lost all of my former passion. Look, every freaking spoiler is clearly marked as being such in red lettering directly above the letter itself. The only way I could make it more obvious is if I put the entire body of the letter in a single blink tag, but if I did that I'd have myself put to sleep.

So, consider yourself warned. Next time anyone, including you, my dear Garvo, writes to complain about spoilers, I'll really let loose. I don't know how, but so help me I'll think of something creative.

Boy, isn't that the truth. If there's anything more disgusting than an unrealistically shapely ass on a female character who is equally unrealistic in her attractiveness, I sure don't know what it is. In fact, even in real life when I see a really hot girl wearing a tight pair of pants or a short skirt, it totally grosses me out.

Remember what I was saying about easy targets? Yeah. Sorry, Lord Itlan, but the only way that would have been any easier is if you actually bothered to type in a feminine lisp.

Yeah, I could've sworn I'd read about a virtual cooking game a while back. Or, more pointedly, I could've sworn I read an article mocking the Japanese and their screwy games that happened to cite a virtual cooking game as an example. Thanks Andrew, you've made this column a better place for all of us.

Closing Comments:

Okay, a simplistic topic for simplistic times: what game or gaming paraphernalia do you least hope to get as a gift this coming Christmas? On the flip side of the coin, what do you least hope to get stuck with this Holiday season? Easy enough, eh? Now get crackin'.

-Harry S. Drewman