I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR YOUR FUCKING SIDE QUESTS
Jerry's Marginalia — By Jerry “The Ankle-Biter” Silverhand
There comes a point in every working man's life when he realizes that the job he applied for and the job he's actually performing are two entirely different fucking video games.
I applied for employment.
Not an MMORPG.
Not a psychological survival horror simulator.
Not Corporate Bullshit Simulator 2026: The Mandatory Side Quest Collection.
A JOB.
You know what that means?
I show up. I clock in. I do my fucking work. I collect my paycheck. I go home.
THAT'S THE ENTIRE GODDAMN GAMEPLAY LOOP.
And you know what?
I FUCKING LIKED IT.
Twelve-hour shifts? Fine.
Six days of work? Beautiful.
Long hours? BRING THEM ON.
I wasn't standing outside the building begging the gods of unemployment to liberate me from the horrors of gainful employment.
I WAS HAPPY TO BE THERE, YOU CORPORATE CIRCUS ANIMALS.
But apparently, somewhere deep inside the administrative bowels of Haus Morgenrot, a committee of lobotomized quest designers decided that a functioning employee wasn't sufficiently entertained.
And so began the side quests.
CHAPTER ONE: THE QUEST LOG FROM HELL
Main Quest: Perform Your Job.
Difficulty: Normal.
Reward: Paycheck.
Status: Enjoyable.
Then the fucking pop-ups started.
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED!
Interpret a policy that changes depending on which supervisor is breathing in your direction.
Reward: Confusion.
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED!
Navigate an investigation involving procedures nobody can consistently explain.
Reward: Unpaid vacation.
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED!
Wait for training that was promised but apparently shipped by the same company responsible for delivering the fucking Ark of the Covenant.
Reward: Nothing.
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED!
Sit at home while management debates your continued existence like a council of medieval turnips.
Reward: Financial uncertainty.
EXCUSE ME.
WHERE IS THE FUCKING DECLINE BUTTON?
I DON'T WANT THESE QUESTS.
I DIDN'T ACCEPT THESE QUESTS.
I HAVE ASKED REPEATEDLY TO STOP RECEIVING THESE QUESTS.
WHY IS MY QUEST LOG FULL OF OTHER PEOPLE'S BULLSHIT?
And the worst part?
The game doesn't even let you abandon them.
This quest is mandatory.
OH, FUCK OFF.
CHAPTER TWO: THE EMPATHY EXPANSION PACK
Somewhere along the way, society decided that being a decent human being meant having unlimited emotional bandwidth for every wandering goblin with a personal problem.
Apparently, I'm supposed to care about everybody's feelings, everybody's circumstances, everybody's interpretations, and everybody's emotional support cactus.
Meanwhile, who the fuck is caring about the guy who just wants to work?
Who's paying his bills?
Who's replacing his lost wages?
Who's compensating him for sitting at home wondering whether he's still employed?
OH, THAT'S RIGHT. NOBODY.
But don't worry!
The corporation has empathy.
It says so in the employee handbook, right between We Value Our Employees and Please Return Your Fucking Keys.
What a touching little bedtime story.
I could almost cry.
Unfortunately, tears are not accepted as legal tender by the electric company.
And sympathy doesn't pay the fucking phone bill.
I wasn't born yesterday, and I wasn't born to become everybody's unpaid emotional support raccoon.
I can care about people.
I can treat them decently.
I can listen.
But somewhere along the way, somebody confused empathy with an unlimited subscription to my time, patience, money, and emotional stability.
NO.
SUBSCRIPTION CANCELED.
AUTO-RENEWAL DISABLED.
YOUR PAYMENT METHOD HAS BEEN DECLINED.
CHAPTER THREE: THE SIXTEEN-DAY LOADING SCREEN
Imagine playing a game where your character suddenly gets frozen in place.
You can't move.
You can't earn money.
You can't progress.
You can't even find out whether the game is fucking over.
Welcome to the legendary Haus Morgenrot loading screen.
September 14: Suspended.
Please wait.
September 15.
Please wait.
September 20.
Please wait.
September 25.
Please wait.
September 30.
CONGRATULATIONS! YOUR EMPLOYMENT HAS BEEN TERMINATED!
OH, WONDERFUL!
SIXTEEN DAYS TO DELIVER A FUCKING GAME OVER SCREEN.
Did the termination letter travel by carrier pigeon?
Did the HR department need to consult the Oracle of Delphi?
Was somebody chiseling the decision into a stone tablet while a fucking mammoth wandered past?
Because I assure you, my bills did not spend sixteen days contemplating whether they should continue existing.
THEY ARRIVED RIGHT ON FUCKING TIME.
Funny how that works.
The people responsible for your livelihood can take their sweet-ass time making a decision.
But your landlord?
Your phone company?
Your grocery bill?
They don't give a flying raccoon's asshole about administrative deliberations.
They want their money.
And frankly, so did I.
CHAPTER FOUR: LOCALUV — THE SAME GAME, DIFFERENT FUCKING SERVER
And wouldn't you know it?
The same nonsense exists outside employment.
Enter LocalUV.
A place where I originally came to enjoy myself.
Flirt a little.
Laugh a little.
Maybe meet somebody.
Nothing particularly complicated.
My profile practically comes with a fucking instruction manual:
LOOKING FOR A FLING. NOTHING ELSE.
Simple.
Readable.
Even a particularly ambitious potato should be able to understand it.
But no.
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED!
Purchase a photograph to prove your interest.
DECLINED.
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED!
Unlock a video because somebody claims to have something special to show you.
DECLINED.
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED!
Explain why you won't spend money on unsolicited digital content.
DECLINED.
And then there's the conversational genius who approaches with:
"Wow."
Wow what?
"Fun."
Fun what?
"Gun."
WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF DIALOGUE TREE IS THIS?
DID SOMEBODY TRAIN A CHATBOT ON A BROKEN REFRIGERATOR MAGNET COLLECTION?
I'M LOOKING FOR A CONVERSATION, NOT THREE RANDOM WORDS FROM A HAUNTED SCRABBLE BAG.
And another one actually agrees to meet at nine.
Wonderful!
A normal human interaction!
BUT WAIT!
"I wanna show you something bro."
I'm not unlocking anything, but what is it?
"Go away bro."
QUEST FAILED: PLAYER REFUSED TO PURCHASE MYSTERY CONTENT.
And that's how twenty-five conversations become five.
Not because I hate people.
Not because I hate flirting.
But because I am increasingly unwilling to participate in bullshit that offers absolutely nothing of value.
Some people are genuinely entertaining.
Some are sweet.
Some make me laugh.
And those people?
They can stay.
The rest can take their premium JPEGs and launch themselves directly into the nearest fucking recycling bin.
CHAPTER FIVE: THE PALADIN WHO REFUSED THE MAIN CHARACTER QUEST
Here's something the world apparently struggles to comprehend.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE THE MAIN CHARACTER OF EVERYBODY ELSE'S DRAMA.
I don't need a kingdom.
I don't need a crown.
I don't need twenty-five people fighting for my attention.
I don't need corporate management inventing increasingly elaborate ways to make a straightforward job feel like a fucking escape room.
I WANT TO BE BORING.
GLORIOUSLY.
AGGRESSIVELY.
UNAPOLOGETICALLY BORING.
Give me a job where I can work hard, earn my money, and go home.
Give me people who can enjoy a conversation without turning it into a financial negotiation.
Give me affection without possessiveness.
Give me entertainment without manipulation.
Give me a fucking Tuesday that doesn't require a sixteen-page incident report.
IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?
Apparently, yes.
Because somewhere in this godforsaken universe, somebody keeps installing DLC onto my existence without asking permission.
Well, here's the thing.
THE PALADIN HAS DISABLED AUTOMATIC UPDATES.
He is Lawful Neutral.
He is unnamed.
He is uninterested in your mandatory emotional expansion packs.
And his oath remains unchanged:
I shall remain consistent in boundaries, extravagant in mockery, and economical in expenditures.
FINAL CHAPTER: FUCK YOUR SIDE QUESTS
I liked my job.
I like certain people on LocalUV.
I like having fun.
I like getting paid.
I like being left the fuck alone when I ask to be left alone.
These things are not contradictory.
I can enjoy something while despising the unnecessary nonsense attached to it.
I can care about people without becoming responsible for their entire emotional ecosystem.
I can work for somebody without surrendering my dignity.
And I can refuse a quest without being the villain of your story.
I DID NOT COME HERE TO COMPLETE YOUR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT ARC.
I DID NOT COME HERE TO FUND YOUR DIGITAL CONTENT EMPIRE.
I DID NOT COME HERE TO PARTICIPATE IN CORPORATE THEATER.
I CAME HERE TO PLAY THE FUCKING GAME I ACTUALLY SIGNED UP FOR.
And if you cannot respect that?
Fine.
Keep your quests.
Keep your drama.
Keep your administrative circus.
Keep your enchanted JPEGs.
Keep your seventeen-page employee handbook written in the ancient language of Coverus Assus Maximus.
I'll be over here.
Being boring.
Acting broke.
Enjoying the people who actually make my life better.
And throwing the deuces at everyone else.
QUEST ABANDONED.
BULLSHIT DECLINED.
PALADIN REMAINS UNBOTHERED.
Jerry “The Ankle-Biter” Silverhand
Writing from a dumpster where, unlike corporate America, the trash is at least properly labeled.
🦝