Answer 1

i play runescape i can outlast the universe with my patience

Answer 2

But did you even listen to the whole story?

Answer 3

I've never seen a level tell a story like this before, such a work of art.

Answer 4

finally dustforce lore

Answer 5

The story did not even make sense

Answer 6

Oh, hello. I didn’t see you come in ...
I guess you are here to kill me, so that you can complete the level.
Before that, please allow me to tell you a story...

*Clears throat*

The year is 1969. San José, New York. My father, Dorothy Blindfolds, is working for a small law firm, Hughsons, Dorothy and Lightbulb. He was bright - a young guy with a lot of potential. Confident in what he knew, yet eager to learn. His partners, Hughsons and Lightbob, were an older pair.

Hussons was an established attorney in the city, who had made a name for himself representing small-time criminals, in hundreds if not thousands of cases over his career. A real stand-up guy, one of those types you could go out and have a drink and a laugh with, making you forget time until long after closing.

Lifebob, on the other hand, was the opposite. He represented exclusively high-profile clients in high-profile cases. Despite this, he mostly liked to keep to himself, especially after his wife, Sandra, died. He was a tall, lanky guy, not very sociable - but he was dependable to be sure.

One day, my father told me, some guy walks in. A gruff type, short, bald, someone you could tell didn’t exactly lick the feet of angels. My father starts to approach him, and he notices Hugesons and Leftball making motions to tell the man to hit the road. They must’ve seen him before.

Against perhaps better judgement, my father ignores them, and asks the man how they can be of service.

*sips drink*

What the man proceeds to tell my father, is the single most sad and heart-wrenching story imaginable. No, not even imaginable - this story was one that could only be conjured up by a most evil and vile god. My father had his face in his hands, soaking wet, tears streaming down, dropping in buckets.

After sobbing for a while, he looks up at the man, face red, pain in his eyes...

“Wow, what a story Mark.”

But the story takes a turn here. The man, emotionless, suddenly pulls out a gun and points it at my father. My father is shocked, he doesn’t know what to do. Dwayne the Rock Johnson and Bulbasaur were in the other room, playing poker.

Have you ever looked down the barrel of a Beretta, M9? Neither have I. And neither has my father. My father lied, this story never happened. Still, I loved him very much.


Fast forward 31 years. I had some friends over for the weekend. One of my friends brought a pack of smokes over he stole out of his moms purse. So us being dumb impressionable youths decide we want to try to be like the cool adults.
So we each take a smoke out and because we have no idea what we are doing we light them and just start puffing and blowing smoke out. We didn't know you were supposed to inhale (not that it would've made a difference.) It quickly filled my bedroom with smoke and my non-smoker parents caught the smell pretty quick.
My father comes in, opens the bedroom door, looks in at us and we are all stuck there like deer in the headlights. He closes the door without saying a word and we all think "huh thats weird" but he returned about 10 minutes later with a FULL carton of cigarettes.
They were Pall Mall Bolds. For anyone who doesn't know, that type of smoke is EXTREMELY harsh, they'll make a seasoned smoker cough and gag. He places the carton on my desk and says "Alright boys, so you wanna be men huh?" Then he undid his pants and made us suck his cock.

That was 224 years ago - I still remember it like yesterday. Good times.
Thank you for listening to my story.
Okay… Sorry, I don’t have another one. Visit me some other time.
I guess you’re going to kill me now?
… Fuck you.