[ WP ] Minecraft was introduced as a recreational reward in a federal penitentiary , and someone just griefed general population 's biggest , baddest mofo 's castle .

They did n't mess with me. They did n't dare. No one fucked me with and lived. I am their demise. I am the apocalypse. 
 
 So what the fuck do I do now? They've ruined me - some little prick has ruined it all. Y'see, not long ago we got this new game. It used kiddy graphics, so at first I just laughed at the guards and told them I'd rather put a hole in their faces than play a second of that shit. 
 
 But man, does it hook you or what? The first time I punched down a tree in that game I could n't stop laughing. You can punch the shit outta anything! Cows, sheeps, those fuckin' pigs - anything! I love it. 
 
 Time came that I started spendin' all my time on the game. I stopped hittin' the gym, stopped crackin' skulls. They started whispering I was getting soft. Fuck them. I ai n't getting soft. I'm building me a town - like something I'd have If I won the lottery. If I was ever gon na get out of here. 
 
 You shoulda seen it! Big walls to keep outsiders out, lush green fields like I remember when I was young and we took a trip outta state. The only trip I ever saw fields like that, I tell ya. Little houses all dotted around the town I built, all-red brick and expensive looking. Bookshelves, fireplaces, the works. My own house I built on a hill overlooking it all. Damn man, if I only lived in a house like that maybe I would n't be in here. Maybe I'd never have shot that guy when I took the cash. 
 
 So my town, right - it's legit. I call it'Peaceville' because why the fuck not? I'm sick of all this fighting bullshit. I built me a dream town in that game, one hour a week at a time. I think it took me best part of a year. 
 
 They had to prise me off that game when recreation was up. 
 
 Then one day, my fuckin' world exploded. I do n't know how it happened, or what the hell went wrong. The hour I got the week before I'd spent time excavating a tunnel under my house, plenty of room. I did n't bother lighting it though - it was just an emergency store house. A man's got ta have a place to bury treasure - after all. Even here in the pen I had a stash under my mattress. Why should my town be different? 
 
 But I logged on that week and boom. It was all gone, just blocks floating on the grass. Some green monsters were wandering around in the cave I'd built under my town - it looked bigger. I cried like a fuckin' baby. I punched the screen through and the guards rushed me. I smashed a few wrists and skulls on my way down. I might not lift anymore but I'm still a beast. When they led me back to my cell I screamed at all the other guys in here, I was gon na find whoever did this and fuck them up. Bad. 
 
 So here I am in solitary. I ai n't touched that game in weeks. The other inmates are too scared to come near me now. They know I'll smell out whoever did that to my game. To my beautiful town. It was my freedom, that place - the only place i could go to see the sky, walk through the grass, chop down trees. I could build stuff there. In here, in this pen, I can only break things. 
 
 All I need to do is find out who did it. Who blew my town up. The only clue I've got is when I first sat down to play that day, I heard a `` Sssssssssss'' noise and an explosion. Maybe it was Larry. He had a lisp like that. 
 
 Yeah. Maybe it was Larry. 
 
 Larry is gon na pay. 
 
 He's gon na pay big time.
