The Rofl Kid, a legend before he was a man, was born shortly after Al Gore invented the Internet. His birthplace was Newnet, one of the quickest growing regions in the country of IRC. His parents were an old man named Tiffany/16/NY and a beautiful middle aged woman named DeAdCaT who met one night in #loweredstandards and fell in luv, and the rest was chat log history. Their passion was so strong they sometimes took to making passionate, poorly spelled and mostly grammatically incorrect luv in front of channels full of men who were too scared to talk to women even online. The Kid learned how to speak and spell in those very channels, more importantly he learned how to break an acronym down and put it back together. It’s hard to argue there was a better place for a young man to grow up online, and the Rofl Kid was walking, talking proof of that.
At the age of 16 he was banned from the channel where his parents lived (it was an 18+ channel, the Kid learned early about the perils of telling the truth online) and was forced to go out and explore the digital world on his own. He spent some time at an abandoned keep named Karazhan but eventually was forced to move due to noisy interruptions from his neighbours yelling about green and red beams. Fortunately he was contacted by a rich Nigerian prince relative and, after handling a couple of minor tax related issues, was able to buy a dream home on the Angelfire penninsula. He loved his house and its distance from the actual information superhighway, as what was once a dream expressway of all the information human beings could compile had sadly fallen to a congested nightmare of naked people and pictures of cats. Only a fool would take the superhighway anymore.
Living with vast online wealth can only appeal to the soul for so long, though, and so the Rofl Kid awoke one day with a new mission to find the meaning of life online. The quest would obviously take longer than anything the Kid had done before, but it didn’t matter. There had to be a truth, a unifying factor of the online world, and he knew in his ❤ that it was he who must undertake it. He also knew the path would be fraught with peril but if there's one thing the Rofl Kid was not afraid of, it was peril. If there were two things then they'd be peril and kittens, but there were not two things. There was only peril. He packed his necessities into a rar file and stored it on the external hard drive he wore on his back. Come Hell or ping floods, the Kid was ready and knew what he had to do.
His first stop was the googlesphere, a commonly accepted forum for the answering of great questions. If Google didn't know the answer then it was common knowledge that there was no answer, or the the answer involved something that could not be data mined and was therefore not worth knowing. This story would be much shorter if the Rofl Kid had found the answer based on the query in his heart. Unfortunately for him, he was side-tracked to a poker room. He sat down at a table and said hello to the people around him. No one replied except for a mildly crazy man at the end of the table who only repeated, "Jejejejejejeje", which sounded familiar to the Kid, but was not a language he knew.
The Rofl Kid played a few hands and looked at the people around him. A man in boxers with a spoon and a jar of crunchy peanut butter in his lap finally opened up and explained that looking for answers to digital life in a poker room was akin to looking for Saturday Night Live clips on youtube. It just wasn't going to produce any kind of results you wanted to see and would likely lead to anger and violence. An online gambling community with the potential to stack the deck against you and no legal obligation to run things fairly will only lead to bankruptcy and all too many stories that end with the question, "So guess what s/he had? Kings." Too many lives had been wasted, as well as too many Story Times.
The Kid strolled outside, stepping over a bunch of players who had passed out twenty-two hours into a free tournament, essentially blowing their shot at the twelve dollar prize for placing second. He couldn't help but feel a little bit bad for them, but they were not going to lead him to the answers he was looking for. Sun Microsystems burned bright in the sky, making him wince a little bit and shield his eyes with his fingers. He located the bridge out of Gambloria and made sure to check underneath for Trololololols. In years past you could stroll across a cyberbridge without even hearing about why they named it Xbox 360, but those happy days were seemingly coming to an end.
There were rumours about a place called Wikipedia, and apparently the Wikipedians were knowledgeable folks who had all the answers, but Wikipedia was a long way away. The lofty Altavista mountains loomed between him and a possible answer. He would not allow them to stand in his way. He started down the road that would lead him through the mountains when a vagrant at the side of the road tried to stop him.
"Those mountains have killed too many newbs, Kid. Whatever you're after isn't worth it!"
The Kid looked at the man and shook his head, saying, "I'm not a newb. There are answers over that boolean hill, and I'm going to find them."
"The only thing you're going to find is Mankrik's wife. If you're lucky."
He started to go, not saying anything else, then looked back and, as an afterthought, added, "Rofl, kid", and kept walking.
To Be Continued