Ikariam PL

Life is like a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift
that nobody ever asks for. Unreturnable, because all you get back in
another box of chocolates. You’re stuck with this undefinable
whipped-mint crap that you mindlessly wolf down when there’s nothing
else left to eat. Sure, once in a while, there’s a peanut butter cup or
an English toffee. But they’re gone too fast, the taste is fleeting. So
you end up with nothing but broken bits, filled with hardened jelly and
teeth-crunching nuts, and if you’re desperate enough to eat those, all
you’re got left is…is an empty box, filled with useless, brown paper wrappers.