Croberts68 posted:

I have got all of you beat and it's not even by a little bit.


Lets start at the beginning, I'm a moderately successful guy, I've been lucky to work with some really high quality people who have made me look like an absolute rockstar. I actually even got some decent B-List actors to work for me on a few projects and even got a reasonably hot, albeit failed commercial actress to marry me. I was a movie producer for a minute and even though I lost more money than I made, the "hollywood" contacts I made put me in good enough standing to be able to piggyback smaller amount of funding on to larger projects and turn a pretty solid net.

Problem is my wife really started to just grate on me about her getting work, and the loving Turtle of my RL Entourage kept telling people we were gonna make a big gently caress off videogame. So I'm kinda stuck in a weird spot where I just wanna start funding high budget porno and maybe trade in the wife for a different kind of actress before the money starts to come in and she's entitled to a lot more. Seriously, I've never seen a girl with such a long neck not be able to make it down to the balls, but whatever that's not part of this story. So fuckin Turtle gets me stuck telling potential investors about a videogame that I am literally just making up as I talk to them while throwing out some buzzwords I read in Wired, but the crazy part is they start to eat this poo poo up. Talking about the "upward profit paradigm" in gaming starts to get these loving app developers turned investors as hard as a rock so I see a chance to do something.

So I get Turtle to call some friends and we set up on this website where you make empty promises to nerds and they throw cash at you. So I get a youtube made by my buddy Gil who has a business making music videos for teenage girls who think they're gonna be the next Kesha/Iggy and he green screens my poo poo up so I look like pudgy Scottish Spaceman Spiff. I'm thinking we might make like 2 mil and I can finance a 300K game, pocket the rest and start shooting facial scat porn by Q2 2013. But something far crazier happens, loving nerds start making GBS threads their entire lifesavings on my fiscal chest like some kind of Gordon Gecko inspired Cleveland Steamer. By the end of it I'm sitting on like 12 mil. Nerds, dude. Fuckin nerds.


So Now I'm thinking "How far can I ride this gravytrain before I actually have to do anything?" so I start up my own website, hired some kid out of Irvine of Craigslist to do it (because gently caress Angie's List, I ain't paying poo poo to get some pimple faced kid to poo poo out a paypal button and spaceship drawings) and sure enough I've got 30 million USD and loving Turtle has promoted himself to my assistant. Which would be fine but he keeps insisting on setting up his office near mine but that poo poo's on the East side of the building, so every morning it smells like someone is cooking maple bacon when the sunlight hits his chair. But then the dreams started. I kept having this nightmare where it starts off awesome, I'm banging some coked out 19 year old starlet on a space yacht, but then the space-IRS shows up with my wife, they use her cheekbones to cut through my hull and they tell me I'm going to jail for spaceship-fraud.

So I finally decide to actually make it look like I'm going to make a game and I get my little bro, who's actually a pretty bitchin programmer/producer and I get him to hire a bunch of his work buddies to work in our hometown. But then my loving wife decides that our house in Texas sucks so we have to move back to LA and open an office there so she can "pursue her career", I wanted to tell her they don't make fish-stick commercials any more and no one is going to be casting any parts for "Mostly Fuckable Witch" now that Angie Jolie has fallen to doing Disney poo poo other than the Sci Fi channel. But whatever, LA gets me closer to those desperate 23 year old college drop outs that can pass for 18, so I go with it.

Problem with LA is ol' Turtle decides he needs to still be near me, so I end up realizing the Maple bacon smell from his office isn't from the sunlight hitting his chair, it's from him drinking pancake and bacon smoothies. But now I have to look "active" so I start doing a weekly internet interview where nerds ask me stupid rear end questions about the "game" and I answer them. At first they wanted to have some of the nerds who run the site look at the questions first so they could type up answers for me, but I got bored reading their answers 3 questions in and now I'm making a space game where you can play Call of Duty and the Sims at the same time. Seriously kids, stay away from cocaine, I had to be hit with a tranq dart when someone started to ask me about voxels.

But then after like 20 of these one of the guys working on the game decides I can't be trusted talking to people, so he wants to make a new Youtube show. I figure this is my chance to get rid of my two biggest problems, so I get Turtle and my wife to make this fake news show where they get random nerds from IT and poo poo to talk about spaceships and the right way to draw them or whatever while I go to gaming conventions, where pussy flows like wine if you've got a "Special Presenter" Pass, just wish I could have got on this circuit back when Olivia Munn hadn't yet realized she could do better than videogame news.

It also helps that I'm like 70 million deep at this point too, so I'm actually bagging booth babes, not just the girls with low enough self esteem to dress up like animes and not get paid. So I think "what the hell, lets see what happens when I start selling spaceships I just drew in paint and make my dorky brother actually put them in the game, and the weirdest loving thing happens, I make another 20 million and magazines are writing stories about how much of a genius I am. And everytime I tell some nerd about something, it will always make some other nerds so mad they spend days freaking out on the internet. I'm pretty sure if I announce a partnership with My Little Pony, I could probably make 50 million and cause a few dozen suicides.

gently caress I love griefing