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The Daily Victim is GameSpy's daily tribute to Internet culture. Every weekday a new victim is posted; The most beloved victims will return in a full-color feature and ongoing story each week.
 
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9/18/2002
UNTIL I FIND OUT WHO CHOPPED MY COCONUT TREE, THE ANIMAL CROSSING HATCHET EXECUTIONS WILL COMMENCE!


SIT! I want everyone in the same room for this. Look, we’ve shared this apartment for nearly two years. And so, when it was time to play my new copy of Animal Crossing on the GameCube, I thought, sure, we could all share that, too. Like civilized giant-headed cartoon people.

You know what I want? I want to know that I can work all day at the pizza place, and I can return home -- still freshly coated in grease -- and sit down for some nice relaxing Animal Crossing, secure in the knowledge that the coconut trees I planted yesterday afternoon will NOT have been molested the night before just because SOMEBODY discovered how much fun it is to use the axe.

And YES, I’m looking at YOU GUYS, because I know damn well that Wendell the Wandering Walrus doesn’t walk around packin’ hatchets. What? Don’t try to paw this off on Mitzi the cat. You’re only making it harder on yourselves. Well? Any confessions you’d like to make? No?

Okay, so nobody’s fessing up. Fine. I’ll tell you how it’s going to go down. Starting at EIGHT PM TONIGHT, I’m going to log in there and, beginning with Nook’s department store, the HATCHET DECAPITATIONS will begin until one of you fesses up. Oh yah. The Raccoon is gonna be the first to go. Then I’m taking out THE FROG. You hear me Tom? The frog is goin’ down by 8:10. By 8:20 I’ll have tracked down Hank the Parrot, and there’s gonna be nothing left but FEATHERS hanging from the TREES.

Ah, I see that I’ve caused Mary to start crying. Well, if you’re weeping now, just wait ‘til I get across the bridge to Lulu the Hippopatamus’s house. I will be a living angel of death! The animals of the forest will trample away from me, hollering, wooting, and whistling in fear and agony as my blade swishes through the air leaving naught but grizzly arcs of crimson fur and feathers in its wake! And then I’ll --

Ah, at last! A weeping confession of guilt. And now the begging for mercy begins. Well good ... good. Very good. I think we all learned a little something today. Now, can I have your solemn promise that in the future my fruit will remain unmolested? Thank you.

 

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