The great glass elevator soars above Irvine, California. Inside it sits Blizzard CEO and President Michael Morhaime. He’s dressed in a purple suit, a top hat, and a knowing grin. An idealistic young boy named Charlie and his kooky no-nonsense grandpa stand next to him. They look out over the city, amazed and bewildered by Morhaime’s magic.

“Grandpa, our town looks so pretty from up here!” the boy exclaims. “There’s my house. There’s my school! It’s like I’m playing the Sims, except I’m not!”

Michael Morhaime laughs, his hands placed on top of an elaborate rose cane. “How did you like Blizzard, Charlie?”

“I think it’s the most wonderful place in the whole world!”

“I’m very pleased to hear you say that, because I’m giving it to you. That’s alright, isn’t it? Just make sure that keep the Starcraft 2 beta running smoothly and release those three games in a timely manner, release a groundbreaking new World of Warcraft expansion every year or so, and get Diablo 3 out before I die because I really want to play it.”

Charlie stares at Michael Morhaime, a little confused. “Are you serious?”

“And you need to keep the Eempa Leempa’s alive,” Michael adds. “Or Battle.net is fucked.”

The day was packed full of excitement for young Charlie and his grandpa. The event was the culmination of an elaborate contest, which consisted of a twenty-six part quest chain in Blizzard’s World of Warcraft that ended with a very small chance of a player receiving a Bind on Pickup golden ticket. All others players received a two hour buff.

With their laptops in hand, Charlie and his grandpa arrived at the front gates of Blizzard’s magical game factory. Michael Morhaime greeted them, as well as four other gamers who won the contest and together they took a guided tour through a magical world normally open to only Blizzard employees and a crack team of janitors.

Charlie was astonished when Morhaime opened the vault door. He had never seen so many cubicles in his life! “This is where we make the magic. Go ahead, touch any of the employees. They’re real. Just don’t ask them to stop working.”

A river of Red Bull coursed through the office. Augustus, a fellow contest winner, fell in and immediately had a heart attack. After his father signed the necessary forms, the tour continued.

“And this is where we work on Starcraft: Ghost,” Michael Morhaime said. In the room were many trap doors. Programmers sat in elaborate nests above them, dumping code onto external hard drives, which then traveled down a series of chutes to the trap doors, where Blizzard fanboys determined if the code was up to standards. Nothing seemed to escape the trash compacter below.

“I thought that game was canceled!” Veruka shouted.

“Canceled? No, no. Blizzard never cancels games. Because that would mean we failed. And Blizzard doesn’t fail, does it?” Michael Morhaime said and rapped the little girl across the back with his cane.

Soon enough, all that was left of the tour group was Charlie and his grandpa. Unfortunately, Michael Morhaime was forced to kick them out after discovering that they had rolled a couple Barbarians in Diablo 3 while he wasn’t looking. But Charlie redeemed himself before leaving, handing Michael Morhaime his copy of Wings of Liberty instead of selling it to mean old Slugworth.

“You’ve done it Charlie!” Michael Morhaime exclaimed. Slugworth turned out not to be the competition at all, but Blizzard co-founder and Vice President Frank Pierce!

Charlie recounts these events in his head as he waits for Michael Morhaime to land the great glass elevator. His grandpa looks pale. Charlie has no idea how to run a successful company! He’s only ten!

“Don’t forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he ever wanted, Charlie,” Michael Morhaime says with a twinkle in his eye. “He still fucking complained on the forums about what a terrible job you’re doing.”