T’was the Night Before Christmas: In FarmVille T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the house The only sound was the click of my ‘mouse’. Hurry, finish the harvests, the breeding, the quests, For tomorrow arrives a house full of guests. The household was peaceful, all asleep in their beds But the quest wants more planting to push me ahead. The pop-ups keep coming, a new costume, a cap, More lumber, more begging… I’m needing a nap! When out of the speaker there came such a clatter I asked friends on my wall if they knew what was the matter. I was frantically typing, my fingers moved like a flash They were all saying that FarmVille was ready to crash. A fourth farm? Quests, and buildings, and changing to snow Aviary‘s, zoos, orchards were making it slow. Find room for a pen, a buildable, lost deer, I finally make room …a new popup appears. I upgraded Google, downloaded new Flash, Oh look there’s new horses, I need FV Cash. More rapid than eagles the requests from friends came, I clicked, and I sent out to every friend name. More feed, water, nails, more logs, stones, re quests in, (One more ram dud, and I’ll use him for sheepskin). To the last of the quests and the posts on the wall Now click away, click away, click away all. Expansions, sync errors, gnomes, grab a tree, Please help me to reach Level 3 Mastery. The time is soon passing, my fingers they flew, With the clicking of gifts and requests back for you. And then, in a twinkling, I clicked the last roof, The stable was finished right to the last hoof! I poured some more coffee and watched for the next round But from my speakers there came not a sound. A pop-up was showing a new Golden Elf, I smiled when I saw it inspite of myself. “Merry Christmas from FarmVille” was all that it said, I found myself wondering what quest was ahead. I spoke not a word, but went back to the work, Of planting and gifting, and I gave a shirk. I planted my trees in nice even rows, That’s when it happened….FarmVille froze. I sprang from my chair, clenched my fist, gave a whistle, My ‘click’ finger hurt like it hit on a thistle. I was heard to exclaim as I logged out for the night, “For Christmas dear Zynga, I want it done right!”
Posted on: Sat, 23 Nov 2013 01:19:51 +0000
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