Red Dead Redemption Giveaway Winner
First, I would like to thank every single one of you who participated. We had some great poems left in the comments section, as well as some, rap songs that we’re converted into poems. We also had some late comers who had great poems as well but they just didn’t get them in before the 12 noon deadline on Friday.
I have to give some notable mentions to both Jay D and Sunny N who were both relentless in their efforts. And please keep in mind that we are always in the giving mood and there will always be more stuff to win from us, just make sure to keep checking us out!
So without further adieu, the winner of the DualShockers Red Dead Redemption Giveaway is…Kyle Stout! Check out his winning entry!
My girlfriend is a pincher,
She claims that money is tight.
The economy is down and bills are up she says,
And sadly she is right.
And so I enter this contest,
In the hopes for free loot.
Allow me to explain what will happen if I lose,
While sitting at my desk working to boot.
I will be forced to buy this game,
Stealthily pulling money from my account,
I will return from the store,
With more gameplay hours than I can count.
Instead of a quiet and dark house,
I will return to blazing lights and noise,
She will know from whence I came,
She will sit in a comfy chair in a very irritated poise.
“Is that a game I see there?”
She will ask with much venom.
Then proceeding to burst into profanity,
Words so vulgar I cannot pen ‘em.
“You worthless pile! Why not spend that money on bills!
No more talking to you my love,
My words fall on deaf ears,
Now I you have force me to reach for the ‘Glove.’”
This item for those unknowing,
Is not a traditional mitt.
Instead it has glass, chains and nails attached,
Even a copy of ‘Superman 64’ taped to it.
And then dear readers the beating will begin,
With blow after blow being struck,
I will desperately cling to the game and consciousness,
Holding out like an immigrant on a truck.
My spirit broken,
My bones shattered too,
I will retreat when she has passed out,
And cry quietly on the loo.
And when my family asks about the scars,
And inquire why my retinas detached in tandem,
I will lie and reply,
“Stairs… I just can’t stand ‘em.”
Can you allow such bloodshed on your hands?
Can you truly ignore my apprehension?
I hope to read your positive response,
Telling me you are sending Red Dead Redemption.