Day after day I wake up in a panic, a singular question ricocheting inside my brain. Did I tweet last night? In a manic panic my drowsy slumber immediately dissipates and with focused eyes and wired eyebrows I fumble with my phone in morning darkness. Each morning I put the phone down content with relief. Yes, I did in fact tweet last night. I let myself inhale, exhale, inhale again, and then tweet something brilliant for the masses. Recent brilliance includes "Another day, another tweet #ISFLsim"
But then there is a new panic at the outset of a new week. Did I tweet enough to earn the money necessary for weekly training? This panic, compared to that of the daily panic, however, is more muted. Because here I need not fumble, only go to my Locker Room's stats and ask w!user. And in a moment, I am able to see how much money my player has. Bliss. Joy. I have enough money and my concerns are no more. For this reason, WolfieBot is the bot of the season.
(179 words)
But then there is a new panic at the outset of a new week. Did I tweet enough to earn the money necessary for weekly training? This panic, compared to that of the daily panic, however, is more muted. Because here I need not fumble, only go to my Locker Room's stats and ask w!user. And in a moment, I am able to see how much money my player has. Bliss. Joy. I have enough money and my concerns are no more. For this reason, WolfieBot is the bot of the season.
(179 words)