It was a bright florida saturday afternoon. Hot burning sun embraced the dry landscape. The very trees begged to be bushes, as if to have a chance at less heat touching their delicate leaves. I stood in front of the bastion of french sales power. It was a target, with its bright red lettering, and many lowly red shirted employees. As i walked into the store, I knew my soul was being siphoned away. Gone were the days when I could say never would I buy it, or I won't give it a shot. I was making excuses already in my mind, about why I was voluntarly becoming a hypocrite. I walked along the many brightly lit rows of consumer products all sold cheaper then the mom and pop shop across the street. They won't be in business long, target knows that. I got to the computer aisle, and there it was, the devil incarnate. It went by many names, this brownish blue box of evil, mmo, timesink, but its most famous name was, WoW. Picking up the box, I felt a sharp pain on my finger. Looking down i swear i saw a drop of blood, vanish into the box, and my name briefly flash upon the box, my soul was gone. I left the bastion of french salespower, and came home. My computer refused to start, out of a vain attempt to refuse my advances. My new found pact, gave me powers, and the computer came to life before them. I installed the game CD, and it was as if the games loaded itself, levitating CDs moving from the box to the computer when needed. I now play WoW, and I feel a peice of myself gone from inside, what they call the soul.
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