Hey good-lookin’. That’s right, I’m talking to you, sexy. I just saw you sitting there showing off your polygons, your lighting effects, procedural texture maps and anti-aliasing like you don’t give a damn. Maybe that’s what’s got me to come over here to talk to you—that you don’t give a damn.
What’s that? You don’t think I’m serious? When it comes to you hotstuff, I’m nothing but serious. You’re 30 frames per second of high definition sexiness, and I just want to scream every time I think of running my hands through each and every one of your 720 lines of sweet, sweet progressive resolution.
Don’t call it pillow talk, honeybuns, it ain’t that. This is something deeper, this is real. Sometimes you look so real to me I just want to reach out and caress your pixels, if you know what I mean. It’s the truth, baby. See little Miss 3D over there, with all those zombies fawning over her like she’s some kind of revolutionary? But I know she’s just a fad, baby, coming and going like waves at sea. She’s this year’s plaything, but you, you’re a keeper. You’re the peak of video game existence.
Whoa, wait a minute. Who is that? She’s so sharp, so smooth. And that lighting—did you see her lighting? Those shadows, those curves—I can’t even see the polygons. She makes me want to upgrade my pixel shader, if you get my drift. Look how she walks, so fluid, like---could it be? 60 frames per precious second, for each and every one of those 1,080 beautiful lines?
You’re giving me that look. No of course not. She’s not ready yet, anyway. Probably won’t be for years. You’re still the one for me. For now.