“Bleep. Bloop. Bleep-bleep-bleep.”

The young colt stared intently at the screen in front of him, his hooves rapidly working the buttons on his controller. On the screen his digital avatar danced and cavorted, leaping over bottomless pits and dodging blasts of magic. He was so focused that he barely noticed the door to the office opening and closing.

“Hello Button Mash. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.” A friendly voice spoke as an older unicorn stallion sat down beside him.

“Hi Doctor Shrinker.” Button responded, turning his head slightly to nod at his new companion. His eyes remained on the screen however, and his hooves never faltered on the controls. “Thanks for letting me play your games.”

“It’s no problem Button. I just want you to feel comfortable here. So, are you enjoying the game?”

“Yeah, it’s great. I’ve already made it to level five!” Button boasted with a smile.

“I’m happy to hear that. Did you want to try any of the other games? I’ve got lots of different ones. There’s racing games, building games, RPGs,” The doctor paused, noting how button’s ears flicked at that option.

“How about RPGs? Do you like those?”

“They’re okay I guess.” Button frowned in concentration. “But I prefer side scrollers.”

“Is that so?” The doctor continued to face the screen, but his focus was on the player, not the game. “But don’t you ever feel that they’re a bit limited? That they lock you into one set path you’re forced to follow?”

A small frown grew on Button’s muzzle.

“Yeah, well, at least they’re honest about it.” He muttered.

“Honest about it? How so?” The doctor gently wheedled.

“Well, side scrollers only give you one path to take, but they never pretend that your choices make any difference.”

“But don’t RPGs let you pick what you want to be? You can be a fighter or a sorcerer, a thief or a paladin. You can pick what companions you want to travel with, and what quests you want to take.” He tilted his head, looking down at Button. “Don’t all those things make the game different and more interesting?”

Button just snorted, staring at the screen more intensely.

“Yeah, maybe. But it’s all lies in the end.”

“What do you mean when you say that they’re all lies?” Doctor Shrinker asked carefully. In the game Button’s movements became spastic and uncoordinated as his hooves shook on the controller. “You know you can tell me anything Button. That’s what I’m here for. Nothing you say will leave this office.”

On the screen his avatar missed its jump, falling into one of the many black, bottomless pits. Button barely noticed, the tears in his eyes obscuring his vision as he continued to stare straight ahead.

“I mean it’s all lies!” He shouted. “You can choose your class, your skills, your companions! You can pick paths and quests! You can decide to fight monsters or run from them! But none of those choices matter!”

With a sob he dropped the controller, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Because no matter what choices you make, it’s still the same story! You end up fighting the same bosses! Beating the same bad guys! And you always get the same ending! No matter how hard you try to change things!”

The doctor carefully wrapped a foreleg around his young charge's withers, drawing him in closer and allowing the young colt to sob into his barrel.

“It’s okay Button. Just let it all out.”

“It’s not fair! I’ve done everything I can think of! I’ve tried so hard, but no matter what I do I get the same ending!”

“I understand why you feel this way Button, but you have to realize that this is not your fault. It isn’t because of anything you did, or failed to do. There was nothing you could have or should have done that might have changed things.” Doctor Head Shrinker quietly assured the colt as he patted him on the back.

“Sometimes ponies change when they grow older. And sometimes those changes make them unhappy with their lives. When that happens to a married couple, it can be best for them to go their separate ways. So each of them can find their own happiness again.”

Button just sobbed louder as the older stallion sighed and stroked his mane, trying to comfort him.

On the screen the game continued to play its sad dirge, a song of failure and loss.