An open letter to Mr. Spencer:
Mr. Spencer, we have watched with bated breath for years now as you have continued to insult, demean, and belittle the worries and demands of Xbox customers. These folks have been crying out for experiences on par with the greatest the industry has to offer, and yet you refuse to deliver.
While they are indeed a meek consumer base, I have but no choice to take it upon my own self to advocate on their behalf.
YOU SIR, are a conman, a thief, a cheat, a cuckold, and a liar.
I won't stand idly by as you continue to berate, insult, and bemoan these men, with their demands. You must cease all forms of cuckoldry, of groveling, of sub-maledom, of beta-male behavior and tendency, and moreover you must immediately cease the praise and the aggrandizement of the competitor's products, services, and games.
MAKE. A. GAME. A triple-A, blockbuster game! We are begging you, on these individuals behalf. It is unbecoming, insulting, and unamusing to the extent in which you have sullied the Xbox's name. Not even your detractors can stand by any longer. This is bad comedy!
Do not praise the competition, better yourself!
Do not take to twitter, nor to the town-square, with your cries. Cry out for greatness internally!
Shepherd your own studios into a new era of game creation. Look not to SONY, but to yourself!
Until you can address your own inadequacies, you will never achieve.
The time is now, Mr. Spencer. Halt all Forza development, not a single tire, not a single fender shall be designed, coded, nor developed across Playground, Turn 10, nor any other contractor nor benefactor. Not until we see Fable up and running.
Not one more TIRE, Mr. Spencer. NOT ONE!
Now onward, get to work! God of War is not your friend--Cory Balrog is not your friend! You have an obligation Mr. Spencer, to the Xbox customer, to yourself, to MAKE. GAMES!
GO! NOW! BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!
