The Devastation and Destruction of Destructoid: Prologue


It is my specious pleasure to bring you the first piece of a gorgeous little book for the Destructoid community. Give them your faps.


Jim’s glinty, glinty eyes surveyed the Valley of Godless Ruination. Four hours prior, the love of his life had met a bloody end. In happier times, Jim might have made a meta-joke about someone’s bloody end, but these were not happy times, as evidenced by the fact that he stood on a hill overlooking a place called the Valley of Godless Ruination. Nothing good can happened at a place with such a foreboding name.

Jonathan, he thought. You sexy idiot. What good is it to be so wedded to your fucking duty if you’re dead? How does your beloved duty benefit from your death? You sexy, sexy idiot. Jim had no more tears left. Only rage; and an ache in his heart. He knelt and put his palm to the cool dirt. You belong to the earth now, my love.

He saw a rock the size of an Xbox controller. What the fuck did we call it? The Duke? Jim’s days as a writer for Destructoid had ended the moment Niero was assassinated by the defector Samit Sarkar. In the half second it had taken Niero’s body to slump to the ground, Jim had transformed into a dealer of shrieking vengeance. The video had been posted online as a warning to all members of Destructoid.

“This is your devastation and your final hour.” Samit had declared. “Only once you have been eradicated will our mission end.” Samit the Silent, he was called. Good Samit the Silent, tactical is he. Jim remembered the song they sang when their former brother had disappeared. They thought Samit had been kidnapped by the Polygonals. They were wrong, and their carelessness had cost Niero his head.Tactical is he. Damn it! It says “tactical” in the bloody song. We should have known. He frowned the frown of a thousand collapsing stars. Then he remembered The Duke and frowned harder. Then…Then he remembered the naming of Microsoft’s third game console and his frown became death itself. He picked up the rock and clenched it in his gloved hand, forcing it to absorb all of his pain; all of his rage. His grip tightened.

Damn you, Samit. Damn you, Niero. The stone began to glow. Damn you, Microsoft. Damn you for making us scramble to find ways to differentiate between the first Xbox and the Xbox One. The stone was red hot and steam was rising from it. His glove was melting. The pleather made popping and hissing sounds. He squeezed harder. And you, Jonathan. You sexy criminal. You left me here to finish this alone. You know I’m not strong enough without you. You KNOW!!

The rock exploded in his hand. Whether from the absorbed rage, or the force of his grip, he couldn’t tell. His gaze returned to the Valley of Godless Ruination. He knew not what he would find there, but he knew blood would spill upon the dusty ground.


To his left was an ancient corpse, now merely a pile of bones. The feathered end of an arrow protruded from the dead man’s rib cage. A sword and a whetstone lay beside the fallen warrior. He was killed while sharpening that pitiful sword. Jim withdrew his own steel, thinking of the joke he might have made, long ago, about sliding a shining sword from its scabbard. His sword was massive, and forged into the shape of a life-sized nude Matt Borealis. It glinted like Jim’s eyes.

He paused to enjoy the shape of the sword. Matt’s curves are as lovely as they are deadly. And Samit will know it, before long. He picked up the whetstone and began sharpening Matt Borealis’ curves. He looked yet again at the Valley of Godless Ruination, and shrieked in fury.


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