One morning later, HappyFarmer92, known as Michael to his normie friends and family, was getting into his car when a hand grasped the door frame. He turned to face this annoying person who was either a neighbour or a beggar or salesperson, either he was about to tell them to fuck off when he looked up to see a thin yet sturdy looking man with a buzz cut, in casual gear which could only conjure up the image of as ex-military who had been drinking all night to drown his PTSD. He adjusted his face and tactical response: “Er, hell-low, can I help you?” It was always the polite question to ask when you were being threatened. “You are HappyFarmer92, yes?” asked the man in a gruff Eastern European accent. “What? he blinked. “You play FarmerKing, yes? I find you.” Michael’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve got the wrong person!” he said, “My name is Gordon half-dead02.” The man seemed to be holding something long and heavy in his other hand. “Oh really?” he said, as he lifted up a pitchfork to window. “Yes,” replied Michael as his eyes fixed onto the tri-pronged tool. “I mean, look,” Michael reached down and quickly swipe-opened his phone, and then changed his mind, as he realised he was able to drive away, exclaiming “I have to go sorry bye”, and did so. His brain on fire, screaming to himself what the fuck?
As he drove away, he looked in the rear view mirror and could see the man in faded and fraying fatigues standing on the sidewalk, watching him back, raising a pitchfork into the air. What the fuck! He accelerated and clutched his phone to his chest, nobody must see my player name!
He drove for a good 30 minutes, repeatedly checking the mirror, occasionally seeing something that wasn’t there. The next time he looked back at the road, there was definitely something there, yes, there in the middle of the road, was a cow. Swerving to the left, HappyFarmer92 careered off the road into a tree with a bang, as the airbag activated and smashed the phone that he held into his head, concussing him from reality. When he came to, he was surrounded by friendly cows who had come to see what the fuss was about.
Meanwhile, the man with the pitchfork went back home disappointed that HappyFarmer92 wasn’t interested in his offer of starting an eSports team. He had even bought a pitchfork for the photos he’d imagined they would have taken to celebrate. He picked up his phone, and definitely not because it was listening to him, he scrolled to see a photo of the car crash with the cows all around him. Damn this guy is a natural. He lay the phone on the table and folded his arms in discontent. Tch, what you gonna do about it?