/lol

## lol
At first, I thought Tryndamere was a champion that attracted idiots. For the longest time, I've seen barbarian kings that not only tower dived, died without (or with) pressing R, but also could not spell, type, talk, or seem to form coherent thoughts. I looked at Tryndamere and considered that. He was an incredibly simple if effective champion. He didn't need to position much, and his rune needs were basic AD Hyper carry. But, when I looked farther into it, this veil of lies over the Tryndamere player's secret nature began to crumble and shatter. I caught a glimpse into the TRUE secret that has long since been kept away from public eye. With great risk to myself, I reveal not only the truth, but what lead me to that conclusion.
I began growing feverish at night. Tryndamere haunted my dreams, yet I caught only glimpses of him. His left shoe, his right buttocks. None of it added up. I knew there was something to be gained from further investigation. I studied Tryndamere at every waking moment of the day. The cleft of his hairy chin, the many abs rolling down his sculpted physique. I was not possessed in any sense! No, I was a man on a path. A dangerous, beautiful path! In my mind, I knew there was only one thing I could do to learn these forbidden secrets. I must play Tryndamere myself. For the good of all humanity and yordles. For science. Yordle science, even.
The next few weeks were hazy. I recall multiple family and friends sitting down with me and talking to me about many things. I had no drugs, but they seemed to think I was addicted to something. The fools. Didn't they know I was busy? Of course I played the champion once, twice even... Nothing came. I learned nothing! So I had to play him again and again. And again. And again.
That is when I felt it. My mind was changing! I wasn't addicted to LoL! I wasn't even malnourished (100 empty pizza roll boxes and a hose stuck through my window confirmed that for me). I WAS TRYNDAMERE. I could feel him inside me like no man has been inside me for at least two weeks.
What does this MEAN though? It means that the most hated playerbase for their stupidity has been a complete ruse! These are not idiots. No, they are not possessed by the ghost of Tryndamere, either! Such a thing is fantasy. They are ROLEPLAYING! Hidden behind the mask of a buffoon, they have managed to become one with Tryndamere before our very eyes. This is not harassment sexual or otherwise (though with my newly wiggly physique, I much wish it was) but a clever play put on by many people who may never have met each other, god help us if they did! They are not idiots. They. Are. Roleplayers.
So what do I have to say, since I have finished this investigation and brought it to light? What else could I say to such a large group of people who have simultaneously and flawlessly tricked millions of people into this game? They have engaged in one of the purest forms of method acting I have ever seen, and there is BUT ONE THING I CAN SAY TO THESE ROLEPLAYERS!
http://images.cheezburger.com/completestore/2009/12/6/129045979813475524.jpg
	At first, I thought Tryndamere was a champion that attracted idiots. For the longest time, I've seen barbarian kings that not only tower dived, died without (or with) pressing R, but also could not spell, type, talk, or seem to form coherent thoughts. I looked at Tryndamere and considered that. He was an incredibly simple if effective champion. He didn't need to position much, and his rune needs were basic AD Hyper carry. But, when I looked farther into it, this veil of lies over the Tryndamere player's secret nature began to crumble and shatter. I caught a glimpse into the TRUE secret that has long since been kept away from public eye. With great risk to myself, I reveal not only the truth, but what lead me to that conclusion.
	I began growing feverish at night. Tryndamere haunted my dreams, yet I caught only glimpses of him. His left shoe, his right buttocks. None of it added up. I knew there was something to be gained from further investigation. I studied Tryndamere at every waking moment of the day. The cleft of his hairy chin, the many abs rolling down his sculpted physique. I was not possessed in any sense! No, I was a man on a path. A dangerous, beautiful path! In my mind, I knew there was only one thing I could do to learn these forbidden secrets. I must play Tryndamere myself. For the good of all humanity and yordles. For science. Yordle science, even.
	The next few weeks were hazy. I recall multiple family and friends sitting down with me and talking to me about many things. I had no drugs, but they seemed to think I was addicted to something. The fools. Didn't they know I was busy? Of course I played the champion once, twice even... Nothing came. I learned nothing! So I had to play him again and again. And again. And again.
	That is when I felt it. My mind was changing! I wasn't addicted to LoL! I wasn't even malnourished (100 empty pizza roll boxes and a hose stuck through my window confirmed that for me). I WAS TRYNDAMERE. I could feel him inside me like no man has been inside me for at least two weeks.
	What does this MEAN though? It means that the most hated playerbase for their stupidity has been a complete ruse! These are not idiots. No, they are not possessed by the ghost of Tryndamere, either! Such a thing is fantasy. They are ROLEPLAYING! Hidden behind the mask of a buffoon, they have managed to become one with Tryndamere before our very eyes. This is not harassment sexual or otherwise (though with my newly wiggly physique, I much wish it was) but a clever play put on by many people who may never have met each other, god help us if they did! They are not idiots. They. Are. Roleplayers.
	So what do I have to say, since I have finished this investigation and brought it to light? What else could I say to such a large group of people who have simultaneously and flawlessly tricked millions of people into this game? They have engaged in one of the purest forms of method acting I have ever seen, and there is BUT ONE THING I CAN SAY TO THESE ROLEPLAYERS!
	http://images.cheezburger.com/completestore/2009/12/6/129045979813475524.jpg