Goat Simulator wasn't a game. It was a state of mind. And once you've been unblocked, you can never truly be locked back in.
It didn't run. It liquified across the floor, a glitching, ragdoll abomination of fur and sinew. It headbutted the pencil sharpener. The pencil sharpener exploded into a shower of sparks and Number 2 graphite. It licked a fire alarm. The fire alarm didn't go off—instead, it turned into a slice of pizza.
But then, his best friend Leo leaned over. "Try this," he whispered, sliding a crumpled sticky note across the desk. On it was written: goat-simulator-unblocked.neverblock.us
The Great Un-Tethering
Mr. Henderson looked up from his roll sheet. "Kevin, is that you making that noise?"
