Last week, an anonymous games journalist 'broke up' with his Xbox 360. In the fallout, he accused his console of being a gold digger and publically dumped ‘her’ for a PS3. (To read all the messy details, click here.) As an avid Xbox 360 fan, I couldn’t let this stand. So here’s ‘her’ side of the story...
It's not me, it's you
So you’re giving me the kiss-off for the PS3 Slim.
I have to say, I‘m not surprised. No, not because she is “better” than me. I just always picked you as a superficial guy. Ditching me for that cut-priced tart with a flashy exterior and no personality just proves what I’ve known all along: with you, it’s all about the dress size.
You had always bagged out the PS3, saying there was no way in hell you would ever leave me for her. I remember how you’d whisper sweet nothings in my ear (via Xbox Live) and proudly boast about me to your friends. You even convinced some of them to buy Xbox 360s so we could double date. Then, all of a sudden, she glams up, slims down and it was ‘out with the old in with the new.’
Sure, I can admit that I am lacking in certain departments (no WiFi or Blue-Ray player), but I make up for it with my HUGE RACK of games. Dead Rising, Halo 3, Fable 2, Gears of War 2, Left 4 Dead Mass Effect 2 – the list goes on and on. That should have been enough to keep you satisfied; to keep your roving eye at bay. What can PS3 possibly offer you that I don’t? Sony EyePet? Yeah, good luck having fun with that.
And don’t you DARE accuse me of being a gold-digger, like you were the only one that contributed to the relationship. I put out like CRAZY for you! You pay a meagre US$45 a year and I give you an array of exclusive downloadable content, cute lil’ avatars AND hook you up with awesome gaming mates. I worked damn hard to make you happy.
PS3’s online system might be free, but at least I’m reliable (note the epic fail of Playstation Network here and here). It’s like the difference between McDonalds and a classy restaurant: you get what you pay for. Then again, I guess McDonalds is your idea of the perfect date, you cheapskate.
Oh, and you just had to pull out that ‘Red Ring of Death’ attack, didn’t you? It’s a birth defect that I’m not proud of, but at least I give you a robust three-year warranty period. And I’m honest about my faults. As for the PlayStation 3, I’ve got four words for you: Yellow Light of Death. Did I also mention she only has a paltry one-year warranty? Everyone knows that she doesn't really care about you.
But don’t you worry about me. You’re more replicable than one of my controller batteries. I literally have a horde of guys gagging to hook up with me (3 30,000 million units sold globally, eat your heart out). So run along now with your anorexic friend. Just don’t come running back when Left 4 Dead 2 comes out…