In a world where your K/D ratio in Call of Duty is a more significant life achievement than, say, curing a common cold, and your Fortnite skin collection dictates your social standing, the plague of cheating in online games has reached truly biblical proportions. Game developers, like modern-day Noahs, are frantically building arks of anti-cheat systems, but these slippery digital cockroaches 🐜, known as cheaters, always find new cracks to ooze through.
Take Epic Games, for instance; they’ve been publicly naming and shaming Fortnite cheaters, even dragging some of these basement-dwelling Einsteins to court as if they’d shoplifted the Declaration of Independence. And the developers of Apex Legends? Oh, they threw a full-blown tantrum and rage-quit support for the Steam Deck, basically blaming every Linux user on the planet for all cheating, ever — apparently, that cute little penguin, Tux 🐧, is the secret international symbol for aimbotting and anarchy. But hold onto your gaming chairs, folks, because all that is mere child’s play, like a tutorial level, compared to what the absolute titans of the gaming industry, the masterminds behind the global phenomena League of Legends and the ridiculously addictive Valorant — the one and only Riot Games — have cooked up. These folks aren’t about to nickel-and-dime their way through this crisis. Nah, they’re going full ‘Murican, with a dash of imperialistic swagger. Their new, groundbreaking strategy to combat these pixelated miscreants isn’t just some wimpy account ban or a shaming post on a forgotten forum. Oh no, siree! Riot Games is aiming for the jugular — they’re targeting a cheater’s very right to breathe American air! 🌎 You heard that right, patriots: we’re talking honest-to-goodness deportation of players from their current country of residence, specifically, the good ol’ U.S. of A. It seems the golden era when using an aimbot would just get you a few salty «noob» comments in chat is fading faster than a one-hit-wonder’s career. Now, your virtual sins could land you in very real, very uncomfortable, international waters. Who knows, maybe soon job applications will include a new section: «Valorant Cheating History (Yes/No/Plead the Fifth)». This is next-level, folks; this is where the digital world smashes headfirst into geopolitical reality, and honestly, we’re here for the fireworks.
✈️ CHEATING in Valorant? Riot Games & Uncle Sam Are Booking Your ONE-WAY TICKET Outta Here! 😱 DEPORTATION INCOMING!
The suits at Riot Games, probably sick and tired of playing whack-a-mole with cheat programs and perhaps taking a few too many cues from certain primetime cable news hosts 🗽, dropped a statement that likely brought tears of patriotic joy to many a hardworking, tax-paying American gamer (especially those who’ve been on the receiving end of one too many suspicious one-taps through three walls). «It is common knowledge,» proclaimed Riot’s PR wizards, likely adjusting their thousand-dollar ties as they spoke, «that a significant portion of our Valorant player base, particularly those who exhibit superhuman reflexes and an uncanny knowledge of every map nook and cranny mere hours after a new patch drops, are immigrants. Many of them, as our extensive network of informants (which may or may not include your nosy neighbor who ‘borrows’ your Wi-Fi) has indicated, are comfortably subsisting on welfare benefits provided by the generous American taxpayer 🛋️💸. Consequently, they possess an abundance of free time to dedicate to our glorious, skill-intensive games. Now, don’t get us wrong, we’re all for it! Let them play! Let them bask in the warm glow of American democracy and our top-tier, low-ping servers! However,» — and here, the Riot spokesperson’s voice probably took on a steely, no-nonsense edge usually reserved for drill sergeants — «on what grounds are they enjoying the privilege of residing in America if their primary contribution is figuring out how to bypass our ingenious, state-of-the-art anti-cheat systems? And are they truly an asset to our great nation if they bring nothing of value to the table, instead choosing to cheat in our games, ruin the fun for law-abiding gamers, and, most heinously, undermine the delicate ecosystem of our microtransaction-driven skin economy?! 😠» So Posed the perfectly reasonable, not-at-all-loaded questions from the Riot Games representatives, heavily implying it’s high time to separate the wheat from the chaff, the true gamers from the freeloading, software-abusing parasites. This fiery rhetoric, unsurprisingly, struck a chord with everyone who’s ever suspected that their teammate from across the globe, rocking a 200 ping and a 30/0 K/D, was hiding more than just their actual IP address. The silent majority has found its champion, and its name is Riot.
And lest you think this is just some bombastic PR stunt to hype up the next Valorant battle pass, think again, buddy. This ain’t no empty threat. Word on the street is that Riot Games has already forged an unholy (or perhaps, holy, depending on your perspective) alliance with the real pros in dealing with… undesirable elements: the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS). 👮♂️ The alleged plan, according to shadowy figures lurking in Discord servers, is as simple and brutally efficient as a well-executed headshot (or a Chinese-made multi-tool, if we’re sticking with the cheating theme). The moment irrefutable proof of cheating is established in any of Riot’s flagship titles — be it a blatant wallhack in Valorant that would make Superman jealous, or a devious scripting maneuver in League of Legends that automates gameplay to an infuriating degree — the offending player, whose digital footprints now lead not just to a permaban but to some very tangible real-world consequences, can expect a friendly little visit. Not from the pizza guy, but from some stern-faced, yet impeccably polite, agents from the DHS. These gentlemen (or ladies, we’re equal opportunity deporters here) in their sharp suits (or full tactical gear, depending on the cheater’s zip code and perceived “resistance level”) will “strongly encourage” the player to avail themselves of an innovative new program called «Voluntary Self-Deportation for Undocumented (or simply ‘Unproductive,’ per Riot’s new lexicon) Migrants.» As part of this incredibly compassionate initiative, cheaters will even be given a little pocket money for their plane ticket 💰✈️ and some snacks for the journey — a sort of “golden parachute” back to their homeland, where they can presumably cheat in their local equivalent of Minesweeper without threatening America’s national security or, more importantly, Riot’s bottom line. But what if they refuse this generous offer, you ask? Well, any player audacious enough to defile Riot’s sacred servers with their filthy cheats and then dare to decline the self-deportation package will be promptly escorted to an immigration detention facility ⛓️ for further, decidedly less pleasant, processing and an eventual, all-expenses-paid (by the taxpayer, much to Riot’s chagrin, though they’ll say the ends justify the means) trip out of the country. Good luck explaining that one on your next visa application.
Naturally, this bombshell has sent shockwaves through the gaming community and probably has human rights organizations (who are likely already drafting lawsuits faster than a speedrunner beats Ocarina of Time) scrambling. Online forums are ablaze. One camp is showering Riot Games with praise, hailing them as «saviors of fair play» 🌲 and «the last bastion against the cheating hordes.» The other camp, predominantly composed of individuals whose usernames suspiciously frequent the top of leaderboards with godlike stats, is expressing… let’s call it “mild concern,” while frantically Googling “how to change IP address permanently” and “is using a VPN an aggravating factor in deportation cases?” Rumor has it, shares in VPN companies have skyrocketed. 📈 Cybersecurity gurus and those rare mythical beasts known as “immigration law experts who also play Valorant” are currently scratching their heads, trying to figure out the actual legality of this whole shebang and whether this marks the dawn of a dystopian new era where corporations get to decide who’s welcome in a country based on their in-game KDA. Don’t be surprised if Amazon starts deporting people for leaving one-star reviews, or if McDonald’s boots you for asking for too many free ketchup packets. 🍔🍟 One thing’s for sure: the carefree days of pwning noobs with illicit software while lounging on your couch, guzzling Mountain Dew, and collecting government cheese are numbered. Riot Games isn’t just cleaning up their games; they’re convinced they’re doing their patriotic duty to make America great again, one headshot — and one deportation — at a time. And who knows, maybe proficiency in Valorant (played cleanly, of course) will soon be a prerequisite for U.S. citizenship? 🤔🇺🇸 After all, if you can’t even play a fair game, what earthly good are you to this great nation? So many questions, so little time. In the meantime, grab your popcorn 🍿, folks, because the first official deportation announcements are bound to be more entertaining than any Twitch stream! This is reality TV gold, baby!
Finn McFrame, celebrated satirical mastermind and self-proclaimed “Emperor of Irony,” started his illustrious career as a cinematographer, where his expertise in capturing every single frame of a squirrel stealing a baguette earned him accolades at obscure film festivals.
Born in the glamorous town of Boring, Oregon, Finn grew up with dreams of being a Hollywood director until he realized that satire, not cinema, was his true calling—or at least the one that let him sleep until noon.
Finn McFrame: changing the world, one satirical lens flare at a time.
