These grim-faced martyrs to the clock sneer at gamers as time-wasters while they grind out endless hours of busywork, convinced that sheer duration equals virtue and that anyone who pauses for joy must be secretly bankrupt. They clock in at nine, stare at spreadsheets till seven, then boast about their "work ethic" as if volume of time somehow trumps actual results, all while the gamer next door solves complex systems, coordinates teams under pressure, and feels that precise rush of mastery when a plan comes together perfectly—then logs off with money in the bank and a grin on their face. The real joke is how these hourly saints pity the "lazy" ones who treat work like a tool for living, not the other way around.