And to Michael Shanks, we express our joy, we give our thanks, to the Aussie boy, not Yahtzee, with his fancy Mana Bar, but to Shanks, who took one concept so far, with effects, with lights, with puns and silly faces, keep it up, kid, you're going places. We all regret what we knew must end, Kratos in Bruce's base, killing his men till his live grenade heart avenged the laser feline dingo friend. Shanks can kind of sing, like I can kind of wax poetic, well enough that Lund's name turned user green, and I can't think of a good rhyme for poetic. The finale shown today was excellent nonetheless, and hopefully someday the Man Upstairs issue will be addressed.
So... Yeah. I'm no poet, and this was no April Fool's joke.