This guy loves his old games, but he can't play them any more because every one of his consoles is completely trashed. The floor of his room is littered with scratched CD's, and even when playing his 360 you can't use the left trigger or it'll erase his whole hard drive. His controllers have brown grime in every nook and cranny, and starting up his console blows a hurricane of dust up from behind the TV. Because of this guy, you get down on your knees and thank your older brother for forcing you to swiffer the entertainment center, lest you receive a beating by his hand.
No points for originality here-- he plays games until dawn, with empty energy drink cans covering every horizontal surface in his room, which, yes, is still in his mom's house. You're his only friend left that isn't represented by an avatar, because he makes way too many gaming jokes and disdains anyone who isn't on at least their fourth prestige in Call of Duty. Any game he touches, he masters; if only that were a marketable skill.
This guy has never lost a fair game, ever. He always wins. Except when he loses, but that's only when the game is glitchy, every other player is modding, the connection drops, someone resets the modem, a small focused lightning storm over Texas brings the servers down, or everyone else had made more animal sacrifices to the gaming gods. I mean, if it weren't all that stuff, he'd win all the time, no problem. Art by Katie Hampton.