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His room reeked of neglect, but Andrew didn’t care. He barely ate or cleaned, existing in a haze of gaming and disarray. Every now and then, a fleeting thought of doing better would cross his mind—like maybe cleaning up or getting his life together—but it always disappeared once he picked up the controller again.
The game kept him distracted, and as long as the controller worked, nothing else mattered. Tomorrow, maybe, he'd clean up. But for now, the grind of Brawlhalla was enough.
“Andrew,” chided Elder Moss one day, “a man can’t live on naps and nuggets!” But Andrew only yawned, muttering, “Works fine so far.” Despite their grumbling, the villagers secretly liked having him around—a reminder that in their busy lives, a little rest wasn’t so bad. And so, Andrew snoozed on, his diet as questionable as his ambition, beloved in his own sleepy way.