I played Fallout 76 until it was detrimental to my health, so I stopped.
It's currently 3 AM and I need to kill some time and the Unwashed Village is sorely lacking in poetry right now, so I thought I'd flex my none existent skills and give it a crack.
Scrounging through the dirt and scrap, I seek parts for my gun.
Jealous of the Vault Dweller, he got all the fun.
I broke my trusty hammer on a Scorch's stupid face.
It simply vanished from my hands, without a single trace.
Giant bats scream and roar as they sour through the air.
What the fuck, there's three of them! That's just not bloody fair!
Sonic waves from three angles and a rad fart on my head.
Just... fucking kill me now, I'm much better off dead.
Why won't my shack fit!? It's still lit up red!
'I won't have to take it apart, will I?' my lip trembles, with dread.
Before I logged out, it fit, snuggly, beneath that pylon!
Well now I'll have to start again! My canvas bag was actually nylon!
So hungry... So thirsty... Must find food!
I wish I had some atom points, so that I could go and ask that dude.
It's been a whole three hours, since that potato snack.
Now I lie, a skeletal wreck, on the floor of my rundown shack.
I found some entertainment, dressing as a clown.
Standing in doors and windows, throughout the ruined town.
They see some weirdo staring, femininely dressed.
The number of visitors have, oddly enough, regressed.
Rest in peace, I tell myself as I head off to war.
The Scorched threat await me, yet I'm stuck in the floor!
I'm too weighed down with crap, to teleport away.
Grenades fall through the floor, somehow, so here I must stay.
Bollocks to this barren world, in which I am now part.
Screw these glitches, bugs and issues, that have plagued me from the start!
'The Scorched can have this cursed place' I declared, with a sigh.
Now could one of you come over here, so that I can finally die!?
So my quest ends here, abruptly, without a whimper or a bang.
Just an irritable sigh, a combination of dread and fear, like a flashback to Da Nang.
I leave with this warning, simple and sincere.
Avoid Appalachia, if you hold your sanity dear.