The origin of this comic is DayZ. Brutal, horrible DayZ.
If getting ganked for a can beans doesn’t make a gamer crave the ability to switch teams and join the zombie horde, then I don’t know what will.
That’s not to say I wouldn’t gank a guy for his beans–I just haven’t been able to yet.
Truth be told, I stink at DayZ. Like a heretofore unknown level of stink.
Which is weird for me, as I’m generally an apt enough gamer. I guess I just haven’t tapped into that deep, patient part of my gaming psyche that would allow me to sit in a tree all day with a sniper rife in the hopes that someone may wander into my field of vision…all for a can beans.
In theory, that is one of the allures of DayZ–the real menace to the survivors isn’t really the zombie plague, rather it’s your fellow survivors. No doubt (like with all games) this experience would be better with friends.
Friends I could run with. Friends I could explore a bleak survival simulator with.
Ultimately, friends I could betray for their beans.