What Really Happened to IFV2
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He sat at his desk, his oversized monitor the only ambient light in the den; blinking, blinking. A message sprang up, disturbing his screensaver of happy puppies frolicking across sunny meadows. This saddened him the slightest bit, and he clicked on the pertubance - expletives, followed by a demand for "V2". He sighed at such a trivial manner disturbing his happy puppy time, and deleted the message, making a mental note to return the favor to the ungrateful, and rather unfortunate, sender.
Behind him, in the glow of the monitor, in the furthest corner of the den, one could just almost make out the shape of a robotic leg. And what was a human brain. And a chicken. And an scale replica of Easter Island.
He shook his head and scratched what was the beginnings of chin stubble. His world of mauve could wait - there was some /b/usiness to be settled. Knuckles crack, and a link is clicked.
War has come.
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