Raminator tired long ago of all the personality-cultage that goes on in the forums he cultivates, but dares not leave them because sometimes, as he’s slipping away to sleep at night, he wonders if this brief internet fame is the apex of all he will accomplish in his life. Already he sees time slipping away faster than it used to, his options for the future growing fewer. As he gazes at the dull glow of the computer screen, bitterly constructing imaginary architecture and tweaking lightmaps, he realizes that though he may not care for it, when the mod is finished and abandoned, the public moved on to shinier, newer things, a dimension of his life will simply be gone. No matter how much he enjoys his job, his friends, his family, he will never again have the same sensation, pleasant or otherwise, of having an arena where his name is universally renowned.
Also, he sucks cocks.