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after spending entirely far too long sorting out my dismembered body parts from all the semen and recombining myself i notice in the near distance what looks like a german and an english guy having an argument about vaginas or something.
i decide to do the decent thing for the poor sods and pull out my trusty sniper rifle and with a practiced aim swiftly take out both of them.
i wander over to the bodies and toy with the idea of setting the scene to make it look like a lovers suicide but then i notice a canvas bag containing a boxset of sci-fi channel movies and some films by a chap called uwe boll... realising the situation to be far worse than anything i had imagined i drop the bag and am violently ill all over the still steaming corpses.
regaining my composure and shuddering to myself i retreat quickly back to the shadows and start building a treehide. i know the packs of emo kids will be back again tonight and this time i am going to be ready...
Ghostcut groans, softly, the combined force of a sniper shot to the chest (which miraculously only just missed the heart) and being thrown into the wall by some daft American not being the best experience in the world.
A quick glance sees n0mArch nowhere to be found, and vomit all over his new trousers.
"Shit. I just brought those."
He wipes some of the spew off his trousers, wincing in pain, and gropes in the bag for his spare pair of trousers. He crawls out the room and up the road to the hospital.
6 months later...
Ghostcut opens the doors to the abandoned gym in which all the male posturing and fighting is going on, only to be presented with an invasion of those goddamned emos.
He quickly whips out his machine guns and gives sweet mercy to the nolifes in the room.
Stepping over the corpses, he sees n0mArch in the corner.