My uncle died a slow, painful and horrendous death. He had cancer, but his own sons just neglected him and left him for himself. After a few months, he called my dad, crying and sobbing, apologizing for what may have happened in the past and begged for help. We all did what we could, but when a tumor spreads to the brain of a 60+ year old man, there isn’t much you could do. The last time I saw him, he was as pale as a wall, looking with teary eyes to me, stuttering „I always wished to have someone like you as my son“. After he passed, we all (including his sons) met up in my uncles apartment. His youngest came in, greeted us with a small nod and a cloud of weed smoke, nonchalantly asking „so what’s going to happen to his car and tv?“ Thats when I had a flashback to what my uncle said to me, his last words to me. I grabbed the first thing my hand could reach, threw it into my cousins face and jumped towards him to beat the everliving shit out of this stoner. Neil Druckmann, you‘re a hack.