THE SADDEST DRUID

Here's an embarrassing admission for a classic gamer: I had a brief World of Warcraft stint over the summer. A friend slipped me a two-month subscription for some recruiting mount thing or whatever, and the end result was this:

Tagnut's brief adventures in Azeroth were traumatic and rife with sobbing and chicken noises. He was a cow-man that wore leather. He ripped the skin off animals as they gave off their death rattle. He often confused the bottles of Sweet Nectar for Bleach. He was even driven to alcoholism. As soon as the subscription runs out, I imagine Tagnut will succumb to the throes of manic depression and find some cave to cry in, naked, drinking himself to death on stolen pirate rum.

The moral of the story is: Don't let Max play MMOs.