The clock chimes once, snapping you out of your gamer's haze as your fingers continue to instinctively manipulate the controller. It's 1:00 AM on a Sunday, and you're at the turn of a nonstop 48-hour gaming marathon. Your stomach growls-you haven't eaten since Thursday. The fridge has been empty since your wife left you, and your kids have all since run away to join the Peace Corps.
Eating them is out of the question.
You wince as the pangs of hunger rack your intestines, but you can't stop now. You're pwning n00bs on Xbox Live like never before-one wrong move and your unheralded winning streak will come screeching to a halt. If only there were something nearby to satisfy your craving, something succulent and delicious, something right below the television and just a little to the left... the Xbox, of course! Eyes glued to your 50" high-def display, you drop to your knees and shuffle over to the console, fans humming peaceably, blissfully unaware of its fate. You lean over the console, jaws spread wide, and...
WHOA! Just hold on there a second, Sonny Jim. Microsoft, in their infinite wisdom, neglected to plan for such a contigency as yours. This here Xbox 360 is constructed of plastic; a strong, durable, lightweight material which nonetheless tastes like crap. Depending on whom you ask, this here games machine might not even be edible. Good going, Microsoft, now Sonny Jim is lying dead on the floor, his fingers continuing to manipulate his controller, pwning posthumously.
If only he'd bought a Dreamcast.
