We gather here today to mourn the passing of one of my most
beloved friends; PlayStation the Third, or as most of us close to him lovingly knew
him, “Fatboy”.
Fatboy lived a long and fruitful existence.
Born on November 11th 2006, he helped me to see not only the world, but
see many worlds. Together we scaled towers in Acre, marched on the battlefields
of Afghanistan, and saved the planet from hordes of the undead. My, how he
loved those headshots.
Sadly, Fatboy contracted emphysema
of the fan in 2011. Though
thanks to a radical treatment he was soon on the mod, I mean mend. The disease was in remission and
rapidly Fatboy was able to return to doing what he loved; helping his loved ones
annihilate noobs. That and making children release a flurry of curse words in
post-game lobbies.
Recently, and somewhat unexpectedly,
Fatboy learned that his emphysema had returned. We both prepared for the worst.
I never thought for a second that it would mean this was the end. Fatboy was a survivor,
a scrapper. He would do what he had done before and with perseverance fight
through it just like last time.
Unfortunately, the condition had progressed
too far without the proper treatment. Nothing could be done. Fatboy refused the
invasive and demoralizing treatment options that were available to him. He
loathed the idea of being shipped off to a managed care facility, or any other bleak
institution. If he had to go, he was determined it would be on his own terms, dignity
intact.
So quietly, and painlessly on a Wednesday
night while we were curled up watching a mini-binge of “Breaking Bad”, God
called another one of his angels home.
Fatboy was five months shy of his
tenth birthday.
As I emotionally
prepared for this eulogy, my mind was in a lot of different places. Of course there
were fits of sadness, rage because of such an unfair loss, and pondering why it
was indeed a miserable fact that the good ones always seemed to go first.
However, looking back I can say
with confidence that Fatboy had no regrets. Well, except maybe Advanced Warfare. But that’s a testament
to his character. He lived a life without limits, and wasn’t afraid to try
anything. He truly embodied what it meant to be alive.
*Fatboy
is survived by his son, PlayStation the Fourth. Following this ceremony, burial
services will be conducted at the GameStop on Tatum this Saturday at 1 p.m.
