I love Tim Schafer, but every so often I remember that one time he spoiled the ending to Murder on the Orient Express for us—me, you, all of us—because deep beneath that teddy bear-like demeanour lies the heart of a monster. A monster whose heart Tim probably ate after stabbing through the chest. I've nursed the wound of this betrayal since August 15th, 2006. Sometimes I think it's healed.
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