Every Dutch kid experiences this at some point in their early childhood: Sinterklaas — think Santa Claus, but three weeks earlier and more racist — is not real. The boat with Sinterklaas, his black “friends”, and all those presents — it’s all an act. In reality, your parents bought you all those presents.
You feel betrayed when you find out. You’ve been lied to your whole life. What’s next — the easter bunny is not real either?
At a certain age you assume you found out about all the lies. All the myths and fairy tales.
But as it turns out, I was wrong. I’m 30 years old and I just realized that is there still a myth kept alive and everybody is still pretending.
It’s Candy Crush Saga, Level 23.
Candy Crush is a free game. It’s a fun thing to play when your kid is falling asleep and you have a few minutes to spare. I’ve been playing it for a few weeks and for a while I progressed at a rapid pace. Level 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 BOOM BOOM BOOM. Done. I AM THE MASTER OF TEH CANDY!!11~
But then I hit level 23.
Candy Crush does this thing where before the level starts, it shows you the smug faces of your Facebook friends who already beat the level at amazing scores. Facebook friends, or as I prefer to call them: Facebook traitors.
After attempting level 23 for about two weeks, I’ve concluded the only way to beat it is to pay up.
You see, Candy Crush is a game that promotes corruption. Every time you fail a level it says, “Psst, hey, if you pay us $0.99, we’ll give you some extra moves and a booster so you can make it anyway. We won’t tell!”
I’ve resisted. I’ve been strong. I never paid a dime in Candy Crush. In fact, I’ve never used any boosters I wasn’t forced to use. I’ve been saving.
But now that I’ve been stuck at level 23 for two weeks, I know. I figured it out. You can all admit it now. You bribed King. You paid them money for a great score and extra moves.
Admit it, facebook traitors.