Used to work at Geek Squad. I had a certifiable grade-A gamer come in with some disgusting RGB-coated off-the-shelf Epic Gamer PC™. He said it would randomly turn off after a few minutes or somesuch.
When I say it was disgusting I both mean the design was horrid, and it looked like he propped up unwashed feet on it over the span of twenty years without so much as blowing on it. The outside was caked in a suspiciously sticky substance that attracted caked-on dirt and grime, all the screw holes were filled with fuzz, and I knew what had to be done.
I donned some rubber gloves and brought it out to the vehicle bay. I asked our resident tatted-out autotech if I could open the side garage door for a little while, and he said sure, before going to have a smoke. So I opened the door, checked the wind—it was in my favor, plopped the thing on the side access street, and opened the case.
Now, it wasn't so bad—at first. Visually, I could not see any of the components inside. But most of the fuzz was somehow sticky or slimy enough that it did not move very much, even with the little breeze that was going on. I lay it down on its side, open side up, and a little bit dislodges and is carried away by the breeze. Good, I think to myself, this will go well. I go pull down the rectractable air compressor reel from the ceiling, rummage around in the autotech's drawers (the ones with the screw—the ones with the nozzle—the vehicle hardware ones) to find and replace the nozzle with one that I could easily actuate with a free hand, and point the hose in the vauge direction of the computer case.
The resulting dust cloud was so tall and thick, it surpassed the height of the building. I crouched there blowing the thing (autotech's drawers fully attached mind you) for a good five minutes and not once did the cloud lose form. The sticky substance holding together the dust and grime inside the case somehow gave it enough structural rigidity to prevent the whole wad from being blown at once. The GM came running over after a while because he thought there was trouble, but he immediately turned around when he accidentally inhaled some of the flying gunk. I guess he didn't swing that way.
After I was done with my role, I guessed that no amount of aftercare would save the board, as it was thoroughly doused in whatever sticky, greasy, unidentified fluid coated the outside case. At this point, I realized it was likely not feet sweat, not "something from the drawers", but rather most likely stale vape juice that covered this wreck. After packaging it all back up and testing to make sure it worked, I called back the owner to inform him his issue had been resolved and to come pick up his machine. I asked him if he vapes, and at the mere mention, he immediately pulls out a pair of massive juice-suckers to show off. Now quelling my laviscious thoughts to avoid any undue outbursts at the man, I calmly inform him that his computer is caked in the residue of his juices, and he should probably stop sucking on his vape rods so close to his computer. And he says, I kid you not, he likes hot-boxing his room with them.
So at that point I check him out and send him on his way with his computer, fully expecting to see him again for round two.
Sadly the store closed before I was able to blow the computer again, or so much as learn its fate.