Welcome to GigaBoots.com. We are, as you may have already discerned, a website who’s purview falls primarily on the arena of video games. Here can be found an array of video content on such subjects as the games themselves, the industry that produces them and it’s surrounding culture, and the history and projected future thereof.
The question still remains, however, as to why you should visit this website. Why this one over all the other in a medium already stuffed to the gills with content both quality and…otherwise? The answer, my friend, is simple: propulsion.
You see, we here at GigaBoots do not produce our fine video content merely for your entertainment or edification (although you will find plenty and to spare of each throughout). Neither did we invest ourselves in these labors merely for the frivolous acquisition of wealth (again, though, we would not be averse to it’s happening). No, we undertook this task with a much more pressing goal on the horizon:
We need to get home.
We used our technomagister powers to rend a hole in the fabric of quantum space-time to unleash the grizzly Princes of the Farterror realms into the eternally burning throne room of the Robot Necrolord in a last desperate attempt to quell his clockwork fury. As the pyramifeardrons of the ghastly vanguard surged through the portal and broke upon the native geometry of our universe, the Necrolord opened his own chest and from it raged the legions of the Autonecromaton Guard. The hoary rasps of dead lungs mixed with the whirrings and clackings of their slipshod construction, the flashing hooves of their ragged mounts sparking embers as they struck the air. The mad robotic potentate of our once livable nation howled his desperate rage as his minions poured from his hollow chest. The unknowable foulbeasts of the eldritchian spine worlds mewled a horrible refrain as they squelched and scrambled in a blistering torrent of tepid and furious outrage.
After a brief team meeting in which it was decided that we had, in our panic and haste, pretty much accidentally fucked over the better part of the known universe, a motion was carried to indulge in that most noble of traditions sacred to the Holy Order of Technocratic Wizard Lords and Associated Sorcerer Kings: running like bitches.
Utilizing our not inconsiderable skill, we used what little influence was left to us to place the entire section of causality in stasis. Unforeseen to us, however, was the consequence of our corporeal forms being trapped while our ephemeral selves were expelled through the cosmos to finally rest in this bleak time period on this insipid world.
And so it is that this website has come to be. You see, we must collect the attention and adoration of mortal humans, as it is the primary propellent for our principle means of conveyance, the Time Machine Panther Hawk.
Special thanks to Tim Wright for the chairs.
Dan — Co-founder, writer, narrator
Bob — Co-founder, web designer, editor, co-writer
Dr. Aggro — co-writer, asshole
Eric — co-writer…kinda