"I hope he chokes on his tiny little wrinkly dick."
Leia's voice came through the group call flat and venomous, the kind of anger that had stopped being loud two hours ago and calcified into baseline.
"On stream. In front of his fourteen viewers and his three fake girlfriends who clap like trained seals every time he gets a kill."
Sarah snorted despite herself. "He has way more than fourteen viewers. Like, tens of thousands more."
"I bet half of them are bots he bought to pad the numbers." Leia waved it off and leaned back in her chair, the creak audible through the mic. "You know what gets me? It's not even the kill-stealing. Kill-stealing happens. It's scummy but it's a strategy I can understand. It's a competition, after all. And it's not even Ash. Ash is a clown. He's an exhibitionist with a camera drone and an ego that writes checks his skill can't cash. I can deal with clowns."
She paused.
