Murder, Bestiality, Tinder, And Pokemon

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When I was about ten years old we had my cousin around to stay and in the four seconds that I took my eyes off him, he managed to delete all thirty fucking hours of the progress that I'd put into my Pokemon Yellow on the Gameboy Colour. I'd like to say that I took this gracefully as it had obviously been an accident on his part, but the reality is that I dropped down to my knees and screamed the word “no” as loud as I could like a dickhead. I wasn't wearing a vest at the time but if I had been I suspect that I'd have probably ripped it off to add to the fucking drama. Not only had he deleted where I was up to in my game but he'd essentially also murdered the Pikachu that I'd formed a bond within it. Yeah, that's right, I said 'murdered'. Anyway, that would all have been about twenty years ago now and although I'm obviously over it if he, Andrew, happens to be reading this and still wants to make it up to me then I suppose the only fair way of doing that would be to make things even right? So that would be oh I don't know, thirty hours of my chores that he could do in order for me to get back the time that was stolen and then maybe he could stand by and watch as I kick his favourite fucking pet to death, yeah? Maybe I'd feel better about it then, Andrew.