“Free-to-play” games are the ultimate bait-and-switch—like getting a “free” puppy and then realizing you’ve somehow spent $3,000 on organic dog treats and a designer raincoat. You download the game,thrilled by the price tag, only to discover it’s basically a digital vending machine with a side of gameplay. Suddenly, $1.99 here for a sparkly sword and $4.99 there for a hat that does absolutely nothing adds up to a small fortune, and you’re left wondering how your virtual wardrobe costs more than your real one. The game dangles convenience, cosmetics, and “just this one upgrade” in front of you like a carrot on a stick—except the carrot is made of pure FOMO, and the stick is your dwindling bank balance. Before you know it, you’ve spent more than you would on a full-priced game, and the only thing you’ve “won” is a stern email from your bank titled “Unusual Spending Activity.” The real endgame here? Convincing yourself that yes, your character did need that $15 dance emote. That, or uninstalling the game for good. Choose one.