I fucking hate gaming laptops

When I walked into my economics class, I saw something I dread every time I close my eyes. Someone had brought their new gaming laptop to class. The forklift used to transport it was still running idle at the back. I started sweating as I gazed over at the seven-hundred-pound beast that was his laptop. He had already reinforced his desk with steel support beams and was in the process of finding an outlet for a power cable thicker than Amy Schumer’s thigh. I started shaking, as I tell myself everything is going to be alright, that there’s nothing to worry about. He somehow finds a fucking outlet. Tears are running down my face, as a send my last text message to my family, telling them I love them. The teacher starts his lecture and the student turns his laptop on. The colored lights on his RGB backlit Keyboard flair to life like a nuclear flash, and a deep humming fills my ears and shakes my very soul. The entire city power grid goes dark. The classroom begins to shake, as the massive fans start to spin. In mere seconds, my world has gone vibrant life, to a dark, Earth shattering void, where my flesh is stripped from the bone as I am beset by one-hundred and fifty mile Gale force winds, and the five hundred decibel groan of the cooling fans. As my body finally surrenders, I weep, as my school and my city go under.

I fucking hate gaming laptops.