There once was a gamer named Endy
His setup was always so trendy
Until he went to school
And looked in the cash pool
And suddenly, he wasn't so spendy.
He loved to use mice made by Razer
Be they trackball, optic, or laser
Till a Naga he bought
"This is garbage!" he thought;
His hand felt like 'twas hit by a Taser.
But he still had an old optic mouse
That was laying around his house
But it's dirty and old,
Full of gunk that's like mold,
And not good for too many "wow"s.
He gamed with it all around town,
but Blops2 made him frown:
Its mouse sensitivity
Goes up with proclivity
When the game's framerate goes down.
The mouse was equally to blame,
its lack of precision so lame.
His hopes all but dashed,
his KDR smashed,
until finally, salvation came.
This plea may sound fairly pushy,
And I'm sure that I sound like a rookie,
But allow me this mouse
To keep in my house
And I shall reward you with cookies.