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The Unappreciated Game Janitor

The Unappreciated Game Janitor

Great. Here I go again. Off to clean another battlefield; it never stops. Whenever I’m done with one battlefield, I get teleported to the next. Don’t worry, I’ll be thrown back when it’s been blown to bits again. When I clean a battlefield, it’s as if I can manipulate time itself. I can slow it, stop it, but I can’t reverse it. At least I can recreate what was destroyed. It should be a cool job, right?

Nope.

*sweeps spent minigun shells into their dustpan*

It’s duller than cutting an egg with a baseball bat. Every single time, I clean the environments around me, using my broom and dustpan and that spawning tool. And it always takes ages to do.

*trips on a piece of rubble, gets slightly flustered*

God dammit. I don’t get paid for this. I don’t know if I get a cool outfit or not. I can’t even see myself most of the time. A lot of my battlefields that need cleaning up aren’t mirrored. There are no benefits for this job. But I’m not sure I need them. I understand the concept of hunger and thirst and sleep, and I can choose to experience them when I want to eat food, but there’s no need. It’s like breathing manually versus automatically, only for hunger and fatigue.

*part of a building falls off above them*

Oh great. Here we go again.

*building chunk crashes down on them, covering their body*

*building chunk vanishes, they are unharmed*

I want something different to happen. I want to do something different than cleaning up wrecked scenery after wrecked scenery. Chest-high rubble walls aren’t exactly exciting, let alone innovative. I think the colors are starting to dull a bit. More greys and dark greens and browns and ugh. I’m almost sick of looking at it. I want the world to change. Wait, scratch that. I want to bring change to the world. I’m not sure how, though. Not much I can do with my broom and dustpan and recreative tool…

*patches up the floor underneath them, gets shoved out of the chunk, flying into the air for a brief moment*

*they think for a bit*

And who’s to say that I have to keep cleaning?