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I want to use a script to automate fishing in terraria (If any of you have played, you know how tedious it is), but this script is made for a 1080p screen, and mine is 1440p. What do I change?

 #NoEnv #MaxHotkeysPerInterval 9999 #MaxThreadsPerHotkey 2 SetTitleMatchMode 2 ; Terraria initialize global c_delay := 30 global breakLoop := 0 *~Esc::breakLoop = 1 #IfWinActive ahk_exe Terraria.exe ;*** SUSPEND HOTKEY ;* *Pause:: Suspend Pause return ;*** CHAT SUSPENDS ALL HOTKEYS ;* ;* This will occasionally glitch, fix by using the general Suspend key above. *~Enter:: Suspend Pause return ;*** FUNCTION: mClick ;* mClick(f_delay:=0, x:="", y:="") { Send {Click down %x%, %y%} Sleep %c_delay% Send {Click up} Sleep %c_delay% Sleep %f_delay% } ;*** FUNCTION: keyClick ;* keyClick(f_delay, key) { Send {%key% down} Sleep %c_delay% Send {%key% up} Sleep %c_delay% Sleep %f_delay% } ;*** AUTOMATIC FISHING ;* ;* Windows desktop settings must be at "Windows Classic" F2:: MouseGetPos, WaterX, WaterY ; Get vertical position of cursor (should point just above water line) Loop { if (breakLoop = 1) break mClick(2200, 970, 900) ; Cast the line & wait for bob to settle if (breakLoop = 1) break PixelGetColor, colorA, 969, %WaterY% ; Get the color of the bob colorB1 := colorA ; Set the variables which will monitor for changed color of the bob colorB2 := colorA colorB3 := colorA Loop, 100 { ; Wait for the bob to move if (breakLoop = 1) break PixelGetColor, colorB1, 969, %WaterY% Sleep 10 PixelGetColor, colorB2, 969, %WaterY% Sleep 10 PixelGetColor, colorB3, 969, %WaterY% Sleep 10 if (compare(colorA, colorB1) > 5) { if (compare(colorA, colorB2) > 5) { if (compare(colorA, colorB3) > 5) { Sleep 100 mClick(0, 970, 900) break } } } } keyClick(0, "b") ; Renew buffs } breakLoop = 0 return compare(c1, c2) { rdiff := Abs((c1 >> 16) & 0xFF - (c2 >> 16) & 0xFF) gdiff := Abs((c1 >> 8) & 0xFF - (c2 >> 8) & 0xFF) bdiff := Abs(c1 & 0xFF - c2 & 0xFF) return rdiff + gdiff + bdiff } #IfWinActive 
submitted by Yevgen4000 to AutoHotkey

[SP] The Most David-ey David

You see David there? He's the one responsible for all this nonsense. He has it in his mind that he has to purify the earth. Shitty bargain buys from military resale shops are his instruments of choice. See, murder is such a David-ey thing to do. He couldn't even conjure up the creativity in his reasoning to do it. He's just another unattractive white male with a savior complex that expresses itself in a wrongful avenging angel manner. Honestly, I spent all my Sundays growing up in church, and he would rank as the shittiest archangel. Even Gabriel would be able to pull out more whup-ass than he can. Unfortunately, the most dangerous of the world's creatures are those armed with an American middle-class budget, pasty skin, a dick, and higher-class entitlement issues. They'll stop at nothing to get what they want, and all David wants is a "little fun."
At five feet ten inches and a hundred and sixty pounds, David isn't one to stand out from the average all American crew. Typically clad in polo or a button-up, he has the sort of softly lined looks that the fifth-choice friend tends to offer. If there were a group photo, he was either obscured by the one hyper-athletic tall guy in the group or found himself standing at the fringes of the picture. Parted Brown hair that belongs to the Brady Bunch and watery blue eyes, he didn't have much going on for him that would cause people to remark one way or another.
It's four-thirty pm on a Thursday afternoon. Honestly, the time doesn't matter to me, but the fact that David is very poorly tailing an innocent girl is. Stuck in his 2003 white Honda Civic, his features seem to blend into the car itself. It must be the reason why the girl three vehicles ahead hasn't noticed that he's been following her since she left from work. Finally, her car stops outside of a newer apartment complex, and she gets out. Her rail-thin limbs speak to the incessant need in Santa Barbara to cut more calories than you can eat. Frankly, it's a sad look to have when you might have to rely on physical strength to fend off a fucking David.
He sat there for over an hour, just watching from his white Honda to see if she was going to leave or not. The time passed in silence as he kept his eyes locked on the basement apartment that she stepped inside. Beads of sweat started to build on his upper lip as the windows in his car stayed up; there's a single-minded focus about David that leaps to murder understandable. Honestly, though, the fact that even the way he sweats is creepy is reason enough to lock him up in jail, let alone the purification scheme that's locked into his brain.
Well into the night, we've finally reached David's big moment. He's standing at the end of the bed of the rail-thin blonde girl. He was able to sneak inside courtesy of some off-brand lockpicks and a couple overly animated Youtube videos that aid burgeoning criminals in their pursuit of literal murder and mayhem. He's waiting for her to wake up as he silently rehearses his speech for her. The lip sweat is back in style as her eyes begin to flutter open- it's showtime.
"Oh my God!" the girl screams. David doesn't flinch.
"Don't scream, this is all a part of an important plan," he says with a calm smile.
"Plan?" she squeaks. Plan my ass.
"I'm here because you're going to help save the world." He takes a step closer to her.
"Save the world?" She asks, shrinking back. Oh, sweetie, neither of you are going to be doing that.
"Oh yes, the world won't be able to live much longer without it." He continues to creep forward.
"Without what?" Her teary eyes search his for an answer. Jesus, they do raise them dumber in the suburbs.
"This!" He pulls an old army issue K-bar Rambo knife from his belt and plunges it into her chest. Her scream cuts off with a gurgle as a jet of red smacks him square in the face. The stream pumps out in tune with her dying heart as he tries to shield himself from it. He's unsuccessful. He goes to step back, but the knife doesn't budge. It wedged between the ribs in her sternum. That's what you get for being overly enthusiastic, DAVID. God damn, he can't even stab someone without getting the knife stuck. Now I'm stuck watching him try to mount her corpse as he attempts to pull it out of her chest like Excalibur. The only problem is that he- wait no, couple problems here. First, he's no King Arthur, less roundtable, more of the pizza. Two, when you hit an artery as he did with her, you can get your hands covered in blood, which isn't very conducive for grip. Especially when you're in a hurry to get the hell out of somewhere. He's trying to grab the handle of the knife like it's a horny salmon that just wants to lay some eggs before it fucks off and dies.
Eventually, David was able to retrieve his Rambo knife before fleeing to his Honda. The next few days he spent glued to the television as he looked for stories about his first intentional foray into his purification scheme. When he finally saw the broadcast on the evening news about a grisly murder in Mission Canyon, he almost cried tears of joy. Instead, he just started humming "this little piggy went to the market."
Now, I didn't intend to play David's looming specter, but after that asshole stabbed me in the chest as well, I figured that I'd be damned if I didn't get to stick around and see this guy get creamed. I was six years into my career at the Santa Barbara junior college when David first came sniffing around one of the girls in my class. I typically led the night sessions for history and political science, but that term, I was conned into teaching an ethics class that was a requirement for most students. David must have taken a liking to Molly, a sweet redheaded girl, because before I knew it, he was staring at her during class and lingering around the campus. After a couple of sessions into the term, I decided that an intervention was necessary. I wasn't ready for him to be prepared for something more extreme than talking. I stayed after the session one night and made a point to see all of the students leave the room and campus since the parking lot was right next to the classroom.
"David? Can I speak with you?" I called him over to my desk.
"Yes, professor Lewis?" He asked with his shitty blue eyes feigning innocence.
"I've noticed that you've been making some of the other students in class uncomfortable with the attention you're showing them. I think it would be best if you went and talked to Carla over in health services; she's the counselor on campus." I said, using my morning yoga voice.
"Are you serious? You want me to go to a counselor? This is ridiculous! I haven't even done anything!" I should have known to back off at this point, but I only pushed him further.
"Yeah, I am serious. You can't invade the personal space of other students in the class and disrupt their learning." Bad move on my part.
"Oh, you think I'm invading personal space? I haven't done anything close to that yet." He said, leering.
"And I don't think any of us want to get to that point." I wasn't listening to my own words, still wrapped up in my arrogance.
"Well, maybe, I do." He said as he pulled that stupid Rambo knife from the backpack slung over his shoulder. It took me half a second to register the glistening metal when he thrust forward and caught me on the arm I jerked up to hide my face. Severed nerves screamed their goodbyes as I sprinted towards the doorway. I hit the hallway at top speed as I thanked the fates for those grueling weekend runs I suffered through. I felt like a Texas Road House steak cause an overeager white boy was trying to make me extra rare. I didn't struggle with all the other bullshit the world put me through to get skewered by some fucking kid named David. I made it to the end of the hallway a couple of seconds ahead of him when I ran into the locked door. My fellow night class professor must have prematurely closed the hall to the next wing, leaving me trapped like a third wheel on a dinner date.
The son of a bitch just smiled at me like I was a Christmas present, only he stabbed me in the guts when he caught up to me instead of unwrapping any bows. I tried to claw at his face as I felt my entrails play slip and slide with the ground, but I didn't have enough strength left to reach him. I decided in those last few moments that I'd be the annoying fruit fly of his life that hovers over the stale gingerbread cookies. When that bright light rushed down into that hallway as my blood rushed out, I said Hell No. I'm sticking around to see how this one plays out. If David or God thinks that I'm leaving this plane of existence before the final season of Game of Thrones, they're wrong. I'll break bread with Satan before I miss what that crazy dragon lady does next.
Unfortunately, David isn't one for television. Instead, the only screen in his studio is his desktop. The movies that play on that aren't from the traditional studios, though. It's just a daily onslaught of porn. Not even the well-scripted stuff either, no, his freaky ass just sits down in a cheap Office Max swivel chair in his dingy studio apartment and watches. He doesn't even rub one out. Not a single uncomfortable repositioning of the pants while various tanned figures feign attraction to one another. David's watery little eyes just track the screen as if he's trying to understand the reason behind what they're doing.
It wouldn't have been so horrible to have just been stabbed by some typical, angry, possibly road rage related asshole. I mean, the dream would have been not to be stabbed at all and married to Idris Elba, but beggars can't be choosers. But they can sure as hell be whiners. I didn't expect much when I started playing fly on the wall to this sack of shit, but I didn't think I was going to be watching such an intricate combination of evil and stupidity. Seriously, who sits in their bed and listens to some creepy white boy who tells you that you're a part of a plan? Apparently, that plan is for you to die and for him to challenge Ted Bundy on the serial killer leaderboards. Mainly, I'm just irked because I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm the kill that got him off base, now he's stealing them for fun, and before you know it, people will just be offering up their throats left and right.

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