Between the games I play religiously on Steam, there are areas I don't talk about. The shadowlands, where the greyed out, uninstalled games reside, a list longer than a mother of five's grocery list on a Monday evening, right before closing time. When are you going to play us, I hear them yell. You know what I say? I say 'shut the hell up, you ungrateful swines. I own you.' My psychiatrist says I shouldn't do that, but how else will I stop their plotting of my assassination? Oh right, there's another way. Time to play them, I guess.
