The coder grabbed his mountain dew and his lucky chair and prepared for battle. He met his adversary on the plains of incompetence. It loomed there on the mountain of technical debt, flaws piled together, grown for a millennia under the tender care of programmers who didn't understand the language they wrote, grown in to the most monstrous glob of spaghetti code. It had no heart but triple pairs of mixed concerns.
"I've seen you here before, and I have ignored you. Too long have you been allowed to live, sheltered by management's indifference. Too many times have I written you off as someone else's aborted fetus of code. Well," the coder chugged his soda and threw it on the ground, "not today."
The beast growled and charged down the slope.
The programmer raised his keyboard in the air and screamed "I will end you!"
And then he flipped off the people looking at him funny.
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