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Rage Quit

I'm a huge fan of online games,
my favourite is Call of Duty.
I love to play with my friends all day,
give me that Warzone booty.

One thing I can't stand however,
is when I get camped by some noob.
It feels like the universe is being unfair,
like it's gone in dry without lube.

Some stupid little kid on the mic,
saying how I just got wrecked.
'Stupid little prick' I thought,
needs to learn some respect.

So off I went after him,
trying to knife him in the skull.
But he kept trashing me with the barret,
and my prospects were looking dull.

I invited him to a one-on-one on Rust,
to settle our outstanding beef.
I invited him to speak to me directly,
but he just kept giving me grief.

Within the first couple of tries,
I'd managed to paste him with a frag.
Maybe I was being optimistic,
thinking I had this in the bag.

For suddenly he swooped in screaming,
nearly causing my ears to bleed.
The decal on his AR-15 was repulsive,
Black and covered in weed.

He nailed me in the cranium,
he one-shotted me in the sweed.
He blew my fucking brains across the floor,
talking how him and my mother would breed.

The tears were streaming down my face,
as I turned red with rage.
I'd invited him here to destroy him I'd thought,
and he's one-upping me on my own stage.

The little fucker kept drilling me,
so I just threw a fit.
I ran over to my console,
switched it off, punched my wall, rage quit.

Author's Note
RAAAAAGGGEEEEEE QUIIIIITTTTT BOIIIIIIII
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