As a kid, I loved games. Some of my fondest memories were playing Sonic games on my Genesis, watching the cheerful blue hedgehog speeding through loops and snatching rings. Over the years, I lost my games, but still kept the console in the attic. Imagine my surprise and delight I first felt when I received a package in the mail with my beloved game! It had been sent by my friend who had moved to another state a couple years earlier. In the package was a note, and a blank, dusty grey cartridge with the word "Sonic" crudely written in sharpie. I glanced at the note, curious as to why my friend had done this. It was written sloppily, as if he had been in a hurry, and there were some tears on the edges. It read;
"Michael, they're after me. I don't have much time. This thing, it's not good. HE lives in it! I can't say who he is. He's after me, he demanded that I send this to a friend. I should've never played it. I should've never turned on the cartridge! Whatever you do, DON'T PLAY THIS GAME! It will haunt you for the rest of your days! It's too late for me, but you still have time. SAVE YOURSELF! A-"
The letter cut off abruptly. Worried, I glanced at the cartridge. For a brief second I was curious, and thought of putting it in my console and seeing what this was about. Then I realized that that would be stupid, so I smashed it with a sledge hammer, burned it in a fire, and threw it in a land fill. I lived happily ever after. The end.