Music, the caliber of the epic fantasy movies. The sound of Fallout New Vegas - gunshots, with a loud attack and the echo of the mountains. The clicking of mouses - soft, sounding like patters. "9999 armor, and regen is pretty much max. So yes, I become a brick that heals itself faster than anyone can do damage to it." "I'm Batman." Chicken being ripped from the bone, a soft and wet sound - almost nauseating to listen to when listening intently. "Humiliation," says the game. The whirr of the cafeteria. The clicking of the Pip-Boy on Fallout. "Does she have brown hair?" "I didn't look at the hair. She walked in the door and I was like... shoop." Swords swinging. "I got most of it right, anyway. The stuff that matters. Let's see if we can get you on your feet." The music is getting louder, a climax. Seems to be in the key of b-flat. "Humiliation." Clicking mouse, louder now - faster. "I walked into Psychology and literally blacked out. Just blacked out. Just "facebooked" it. My face hit my book." Not to sound racist, but a black man is talking, with a more feminine voice - the "s" and "t" are much more crisssp than in "common" American male dialect. "Happens to the best of us."
Sitting in the coffee house in the Eisenhower center for 10 minutes, listening intently to my friends - there's a lot to take in, sound-wise.
"It's alright. I have the Holy Warfare." "The God shop up in the top left." "Oh my God, that's a man!" "Cool story, bro." "End game." "I gotta eat something." "As soon as she saw me wave..." The patpatpat of people walking on the linoleum floor. More sword swinging. "Through the woods I go, skipping all the way. I'm making money, lots and lots of money, by skipping through the woods joyfully!" More soft and wet eating. "Isn't that right Kyle?!" "What?" "I'm a douche." "Sometimes." "See?" - quieter now. "This thing's stuck." "That's what she said." Western-themed music.
The end.
