"Stop the presses!”

The young journalist yelled this at the top of his lungs while he came careening into the office, his feet sliding comically and he is forced to regain his balance before he crashes into some of his peers at a stereotypically dense water cooler area.

“You've gotta stop the presses!”

Everybody simply looked at eachother, the awkwardness is thick in the air like smoke in a dive bar.

“Uh, man. This is an internet publication. We, uh, don't have presses” said one of the newest interns. Behind him one of the longer tenured writers let out an audible sigh.

The young, intelligent, handsome, and well-bearded journalist stared at him with his jaw slack. The surprise was visible on his face. “Well, put down your quilled pens and quit typing on your mimeograph machines! I've got a scoop!”

The rest of his compatriots in journalistic arms seemed less than thrilled.

“You guys aren't going to believe this, it has never happened before in the history of gaming.” The bearded, brilliant, and incredibly talented journalist was now getting more animated with his hands. He knocked a stack of papers off a desk at arms length and they sprawled across the ground like enormous rectangular snowflakes.

“Well, what is it?” asked the intern. He had never been a part of a 'scoop' before and the idea slightly excited him.

The bearded gentleman bounded over a desk, knocking over a plastic travel container of Columbian brew with just a touch of Bailey's in it, and grabbed the new hire by his shoulders, shaking him violently and yelling excitedly into his face.

“It is unfathomable! It is as if the precursor of the end times is upon us!” he was still shaking his comrade, “Everyone get your gas masks out! Watch out for Captain Tripps! It is the beginning of the end! Repent!” The shaking continued.

The intern flailed feebly, trying to make the shaking stop before he threw up his vegan lunch. “St-... Stop. What are you talking about?”

“Here, have a seat, you are in hysterics!” The paragon of manliness in journalist form pulled a chair out and shoved the intern into it. “Are you alright? Do you need any water? Someone get this man some water! He can't handle this news!”

“What news! I don't need water, what the hell are you talking about!”

The bearded journalist, who was probably very good at pleasing the ladies, threw his arms up in exasperation, his press badge shimmering in the flourescent light of the office. “It finally happened, young intern! It finally happened!”

The intern was both slightly worried and slightly annoyed, something the rest of the office had grown used to after working around this particular writer, and stared flustered at the man.

“Those crazy bastards have finally done it!” The intern tried to stand up but was pushed back into the chair, for his own good. “What have they done,” he asked excitedly and earnestly. Many other writers had, at this point, begun to pay attention to their work and ignore the theatrics near the water cooler.

“They've finally made a good Batman game!”

The gathered employees let out a collective groan. The intern was now even more confused, and a little bit nauseous thanks to the half minute of violent shaking. “Wait... what?”

“Don't you realize what this means, it means that hell has officially frozen over and the dead will soon walk the Earth! A good Batman game is an impossible occurrence. You,” he pointed at one of his colleagues, “I hope you have insurance against raining frogs on that SUV monstrosity you drive.” He paused for a second, “Oh and I've been siphoning gas out of your tank for weeks now.”

“You did wh-”

“There is no time!” the writer with the fantastic beard and impeccable fashion taste interrupted, “We have to address the fact that Batman: Arkham Asylum isn't just the best Batman game, or the best game based on a comic book license, it might be one of the best games of this console generation!”

The intern scratched his chin, which was sporting a goatee and not a beard as impressive as the excited writer, “Why does that mean the world is ending?”

“Don't you see man! We are all at risk!” He stood up on a desk and knocked a box of paperclips to the floor, spilling its contents, When games based on properties as maligned as Batman start becoming this good, Armageddon must be upon us. Everything about this game is well crafted and entertaining. Everything! Look!”

He began to pick up the paper clips, one at a time, and placing them in his other hand. “In Batman: Arkham Asylum this would be fun, you pretty much do exactly this for hours and have a good time doing it! Because the Riddler is making you! Right now it just sucks though.” He threw the handful of paper clips towards the copier, scattering them across the room and into the mugs of a few coworkers. “The graphics are fantastic and absolutely capture the feel of the Dark Knight without just copping out and making everything all dark and edgy. Even the music helps add to the atmosphere! It is almost as if the people creating this game actually were Batman fans and understood what other fans would want out of a game! Mind blowing!”

He began to gesture wildly, his manly beard adding to his rugged good looks and authority, “I hope you all have bomb shelters to go home to, because Batman: Arkham Asylum even got the plot right. It plays like an extended Batman: The Animated Series episode, and it doesn't hurt that they used some of the voice actors from that wonderful addition to animated television lore either. Mark Hamil's Joker is arguably better than Heath Ledger's! And even though you don't face every Batman protagonist, enough clues and small nods are made to all the important ones that infinite sequels are already set up. Not to mention Harley Quinn looking like my dream girl- I always did love fetish models.”

The intern seemed slightly disturbed now, “F-.. Fetish models?”

The writer looked down at him and shook his head disapprovingly, “You just aren't living if you don't know what I'm talking about. But the beautiful art of bondage has nothing to do with this! This is life and death. The last decent Batman game came out on the Super Nintendo! And I'm fairly confident something terrible happened somewhere at sometime after that. Now that Batman: Arkham Asylum has come out and offered us an incredibly fun combat system, with a simple and fluent combo mechanic that leads to some awesome choreography, and stealth parts that are almost as deep as Metal Gear Solid with the amount of ways you can dispatch enemies, something has to blow up somewhere to even the cosmic scale! The amount of strategy you can employ here to add to the games already extensive replay value makes this a no brainer for a purchase, the only thing you don't get to do as Batman is drive the Batmobile, and after suffering through those levels in the last Batman game I'm perfectly fine with that limitation.”

He turned abruptly and began to run out the door. His shoes, which matched his outfit in a way that only the most fashionable could recognize, pounded against the gray berber carpet as he moved. “This game was just too good. I'm still going to be playing Challenge Mode months from now! Well, if we had months! I've got to go kiss my girlfriend good bye and start formulating a plan to fight off the demons from hell that will surely be breaking through the Earth and destroying all we hold dear! Make peace with your loved ones, the end of days is nigh!”

He snatched a jacket hanging from the back of a chair, an occupied chair, and began to tie it around his neck like a cape as he disappeared from the room. The intern sat dumbfounded and confused after witnessing that incredibly good looking and eloquent gentleman warn the room of the end of the world, he turned to the closest person to him, a woman from accounting, and asked “What the hell was that about?”

The woman raised an eyebrow, “You get used to it. He did the same thing when Tunnel Rats: 1968 came out.”