An open letter to the hostages I just saved in The Division

Dear hostages I just saved in The Division,

I can't fucking believe you.

Listen, I understand there's going to be treasure when I save you from the thugs that are holding you hostage. This is a video game. I get it. I wipe out the bad guys, I find the key, I open your cage, I get the treasure inside. It's Video Games 101.

I'd be thrilled to have a new riot mask. I've got embarrassing gloves, a new pair of those would go down real smooth. I'd even take some blue knee pads, hell, make ‘em green kneepads. I'm not so picky.

But, you know what? With God as my witness, if I ever again open the chest inside your cell and it contains A SHOTGUN? You. Are going. To hear about it.

You cannot be held hostage with A SHOTGUN. You can not be held captive by people who are susceptible to being shot by a shotgun (read: all people). You can not be held captive behind doors that can be "unlocked" with a shotgun (read: most doors). You are not a hostage, you are a tenant of the electronics store closet, and you're living rent-free.

Do you know how hard it was just to find you? Look at my map.

Literally. That's literally what I'm working with.

I'm sure you're about to protest, so let me cut off your counter-arguments at the pass:

They would have noticed and shot me! Hi, have you met your captors? Allow me to make an introduction. They are the villains who are so heart-stoppingly stupid that they locked you in a closet WITH A GUN. Also, if you were waiting for a good distraction to make your move, I might have suggested when that heroic Adonis outside was drawingly literally all their fire in an attempt to rescue you. You can't have missed him, he died and respawned like 17 times trying to rescue your unfathomable uselessness.

Keep out of closets, especially ones with guns in them.

The gun chest was locked! The gun chest was not locked. I know because I opened it and had it been locked that would have required a lockpick and I've never ever found a lockpick. Ever. I know there are lockpicks. I'm pretty sure there are lockpicks somewhere. Please let me know if you see one.

I don't believe in violence! Wait, are you MacGyver? No, no I didn't think so. You know what happens to people who don't believe in guns during pandemic apocalypses who simultaneously aren't MacGyver? They get locked in the closet of a boarded up Radio Shack. You should have hung a sign on the door that said "Please don't bother saving me, I'm just going to get locked in another closet. This is how I kick it now. Locked in closets. Please slip a Fruit Roll-Up under the door."

All the enemies are total bullet sponges! Yeah, OK, you got me on this one, I don't have a witty retort. Let's hope for a patch.

Listen, I'm not heartless. I imagine it'd be scary to take on a building full of thugs armed with assault rifles and surprisingly decent AI. ... Oh wait, I don't have to imagine because I just did it a half-dozen times so my friend the doctor could build a pediatric wing at the post office. The cherry on that crap sundae? Murdering eight guys who were shooting flamethrowers at me -- one of whom I'm pretty sure I went to high school with -- for you. For you.

OK, you can now officially consider yourself warned. Keep out of closets, especially ones with guns in them. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have a stern talk with the person using our generators to keep all the Christmas lights at the mall turned on.

I mean, c'mon.