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I hate carfats. I walk all over my neighborhood, up hills, down hills, through shrubbery. All the while, obese soccer moms and cuckolded boomers are driving their unsightly SUVs down the asphalt. They even have the gall to pull up next to me and say, "Hey, Mr. Level 50 Walkchad, can you help us with this three star shadow raid" They honestly think they have the right to address from inside their car, seatbelt on, completely unwilling to enter the real and talk outside their pod on wheels. I am growing bitter at the state of this game... Am I the only one left who cares about John Hanke's vision?
