Imagine being Ellie in that cutscene and having to be all like "damn, jewess, you fuckin' fine, all sexy with your androgynous body and horrific hooked nose. I would totally have sex with you, both my character and the real me." when all she really wants to do is fuck Joel again in his room. Like seriously imagine having to be Ellie and not only dance while Anita Sarkeesian's self insert rubs her disgusting cheek on your face, the booze barely concealing her stench and greasy skin, and just stand there, gameplay after gameplay, hour after hour, while she perfected that dance. Not only having to tolerate her monstrous fucking visage but her haughty attitude as every internet journalist tells SONY THEY STILL GOT IT and DAMN, THE LAST OF US 2 LOOKS LIKE *THAT*?? because they're not the ones who have to stand there and watch her mannish fucking gremlin face contort into types of grimaces you didn't even know existed before that day. You've been fucking nothing but a healthy diet of father figures and post apocalyptic buff dudes and later allegedly raped by zombies for your ENTIRE LIFE coming straight out of the loonies at Naughty Dog. You've never even seen anything this fucking disgusting before, and now you swear you can taste the sweat that's breaking out on her dimpled nose as she sucks in her nostrils to writhe it suggestively at you, smugly assured that you are enjoying the opportunity to get controlled to stand there and revel in her "statuesque (for that is what she calls herself)" beauty, the beauty the art director worked so hard for in the previous months. And then the player restart the game for another speedrun, and you know you could kill every single non playable character in this room before the AI could put you down, but you stand there and endure, because you're fucking Ellie. You're not going to lose your future Hollywood adaptation over this. Just bear it. Hide your face and bear it.
