You don’t even own the game but you know every spell, every enemy, every character and every item. Nothing will be a surprise in this game to you. You know that when you receive this game on your birthday, you will tear into it in an explosion of ecstasy and pure elation. You know exactly how you are going to start the game. According to the internet and the forums you have bookmarked, you know that Demon Hunter is the best character. He looks badass. Double crossbows and a hood. He throws mines and knives. Of course you are going to play as the Demon Hunter.
As soon as you opened the game, you your left foot taps impatiently for your relatives to leave so you could start playing the game. They keep wishing you Happy Birthday. You decide to fake being really tired so they leave. Once they are gone your parents will wonder how you are suddenly wide awake.
Run downstairs to make your character. He has to have a funny name. That is a must. You are spending more thought and effort deciding on the merits of “DJ Elmo” vs “Mr. Swagnarock the Destroyer” than you do on the average school assignment. After a few minutes of soul searching, you decide that your champion will instead be Lord Fartbubble. Spend an equal amount of time trying to make Fartbubble’s face as stupid as possible.
This is the best game you have ever played. The graphics are amazing. The enemies look cool. You love the sound it makes when a arrow hits a zombie in the face. You rush through the first few levels in a haze of leveling and swapping weapons for slightly better weapons. Like a shark on a feeding frenzy, you ignore the outside world. Marvel at a legendary crossbow you get. Sell it three levels later when it is obsolete. Repeat. You are the best demon hunter of all time.
You decide to show the game to your family. They do not understand your love. Your brother asks how he can fire a crossbow with each hand without ever reloading or running out of shots. Your mom will ask you why you are killing everyone. You will defend your rampage by citing your characters tragic backstory of demons killing Mr. and Mrs. Fartbubble. This prompted the young Fartbubble to swear an oath of vengeance against the demons. Your mom will point out that you are killing goatmen instead of demons. You don’t have a comeback. Mumble something about graphics to try to change the subject. She makes a small noise of disgust and walks away.
Start to think more about the game. Fartbubble is on a quest to save some farmers from the rampaging goatmen. From the number of tribal gravestones you see, these farmers seem to have built their farm on a goatman graveyard. Identify with the goatmen you are slaughtering. In the next quest you have to retrieve an artifact from their village. You didn’t even think that the goatmen could have a village. This surprises you and makes you a bit sad. You see more and more evidence that the goatmen have a community and culture. You kill the shamans. You break their drums for gold. You kill their chief. He drops a good sword. Use that sword to kill the other goatman. You don’t like killing the goatmen as much as the zombies.
Thankfully in the second act, there are no goatmen. There are lizard men, but you justify killing them because they are attacking refugees. Plus, they drop way better loot and you like that. Singlehandedly overthrow a government. Watch the other characters say thank you over and over again in the same tone. Reflect that $3000 dollars for a coup is probably underpayment.
Act three of the game has goatmen. When they see you they scream in the air and become enraged. You wonder if they are mad for you for looting their graveyard, killing their religion, and using their chief’s sword to kill the fleeing survivors for pocket change.
You find a ring of invisibility on the ground. You can now run around without them seeing you until you attack. The stark contrast to the usual adrenalin rampage takes you by surprise. You use the ring to observe the goatmen. You notice that until you attack them, they seem to group in rings, grunting softly to each other. You wonder if the goatmen have friends or after-work union meetings. You don’t see one instance of the goatmen doing anything aggressive until they are attacked. They just look gross and scary. Wonder if people just assumed they sided with the demons because they look different.
Intrigued, you decide to travel back to the first act to see how the goatman village is faring. As you walk to the village with your ring on, you can see the goatmen chopping wood to rebuild from your rampage. In the center of the village, where the old throne used to be, the goatmen have built a garden. You duck into a tent. A baby goatman looks deep into your soul with huge, innocent eyes. You put down the controller and step away from the TV for a second. Everything Lord Fartbubble had been told so far had led you to believe that the goatmen were only capable of murder and destruction. But here was the final piece of solid evidence that that the goatmen were just normal people too. Gasp in sudden realization.
You take a good hard look at Lord Fartbubble. He is a monster. He blindly follows orders and systematically kills entire races of people for looking and acting different. Realize that this game has turned Lord Fartbubble into fantasy Hitler. You hate what Lord Fartbubble has become. Stop playing the game. You will lie to your friends and claim you beat it. You know it was because you couldn’t take the guilt of genocide and murder.  The senseless violence has to stop.
Eject the game. Start playing Grand Theft Auto 5.