For whatever reason, the conclusion to this year’s E3 found me sitting in a retro-style 1950s American diner. Brain nearly as fried as the egg on my sandwich, I couldn’t help but zone out for worryingly long spells while reintroducing my body to the concept of nourishment. During my brief moments of lucidity, however, I noticed that game developers were just sort of appearing – like drops of water beading on a glass that also played Elvis’ rendition of “Hound Dog.” Turns out, they were flocking from a party one building away. What happened next was, well, kind of incredible.

This haggard band of random developers – probably numbering in the 20s – went outside and engaged in a full-on group hug. Then, still in circle formation, they put their hands together and raised them in a “goooo team” fashion. They all seemed so joyful – so triumphant. And why not? They just finished showing the projects they lovingly created to hordes of super passionate people. Word on the street is that this year’s E3 was the sign of some coming triple-Apocalypse – some creative glut that borders on dystopian. On the street outside that little diner, however, I saw no such thing.

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