I was there when the miracle happened. Indeed: I was the vessel that carried it.

I told you on Friday that I can’t be trusted with motes. Let me tell you what I can be trusted with: robbing motherfuckers.

Now, I should say that I think anyone would be capable of this particular feat with my build. I think a sufficiently enthusiastic branch could manage it. I play as a Stormcaller Warlock, which you might have heard referred to as Tickle Fingers. I’m essentially a young, spry version of the Emperor from Star Wars. They move really fast, the ult creates a shockwave on use, and then anything in a wide cone dies while arcing deadly lightning to their doomed fellows. I invade the opposing team, sneak up as quietly as I can, and then:

1. Eat them while they’re fighting mobs to destroy their hard-won motes in the early game. The most I’ve ever destroyed in this way, in one invasion, is thirty.

2. Kill them in the endgame to feed their Primeval, the boss they must kill to win. Wiping an enemy team under these circumstances is practically a reset.

We understand that dads have been lonely in our absence - too lonely. To this end, we have assembled a crack team of dad fuckers we’re calling “Dadfuckerz, Inc.” expressly to form lasting, romantic bonds that bloom into all-you-can-eat erotic buffets. We’ve got a classic configuration for you today: Joshua Price as an older, wiser Tommy No-Chill, Ryan Hartman as Tommy’s modern incarnation “Sex Goku,” and myself as everybody else. At 12 the Design Team is gonna get some horror games underway, and we’ll be on to go nuts on a dad at 2pm PDT on Twitch.

(CW)TB out.