Ah yes, the console peasants rummage together what few rubles they can find to buy the same console over again. I watch them from high aloft in my castle tower. They scurry like mice, looking for anything shiny that might fall within the gaze of their beady, downtrodden eyes. I grow tired of watching their pathetic existence and head directly to my glorious banquet hall. Before taking a seat, I smack my serving wench directly on her ample bottom. Her peasant fiance will be caught unaware of the fact that I will invoke my god-given right of primae noctis on the night they wed.
After finishing my meal, with a stomach so full I fear it may burst, I saunter gracefully to my balcony. I am not an unmerciful lord. On occasion, I like to give the little folk a special treat that might serve as a glimmer of light in an otherwise dark and melancholy world. Tonight I have brought a tray of scraps from my magnificent feast. My lips and beard still glisten with the succulent remains of my decadent meal. I throw the scraps from my balcony and find my ears greeted to the thunder of a thousand harried footfalls in my yard. The peasants fight tooth and nail hoping to fill their vacuous bellies with the smallest hint of a calorie bearing morsel. I chuckle and feel a wave of comfort emanate throughout my entire being, for it is true what they say. It is good to be king.
Suckle at the power I wield atop my glorious PC throne. The peasants all scream, "The Xbox is coming! The Xbox is coming!" I chuckle at your expense as I bask in the unlimited RGB rays that pour out of my PC. My decadence knows no end. My mouth is glistening from the scrumptious succulence that adorns my dinner table. I throw the bones and scraps out the window of my castle as a gift to help ease your miserable, downtrodden existence. I am your LORD and you owe me so much more than you could ever repay. Head my lessons, or continue on the path of console insanity. The choice is yours. I can only show you the door; It is you who must walk through it.
I can already see the peasants hyperventilating. They will spend what little money they have on a machine that is already obsolete compared to a five-year old PC. I sit high on my pristine throne laughing at your existence. You may be alive, but you are hardly living. Look up toward the sky when you grow weary from hunger. I may show mercy and rain upon you the scraps from my succulent table. Their decadence will be foreign to you and I will thoroughly enjoy watching you fight your kinsman for a taste of the good life.
@sdecker425: "Most people could care less about the highest specs available." Most people are what we refer to as peasants. Enjoy the scraps from my table you filthy mongrel.
My PC from 4 years ago is still more powerful than this will be. It's good being a PC lord, and GREAT not having to put up with a prebuilt peasant box.
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