I fought the Shitbox Consortium.
Armies of Yujis, of Ruders
Not so impressive when their guts are spread across the trees
The gore of it reminded me of holiday tinsel
Christmas lights
The smell of a fire and the anticipation of hot cocoa
As I watched them drip from above and splatter on the cold ground
Under the indifferent gods, beneath their silent gaze
Only one word came to my mind
Nice
I releaded my weapon and charged
But there wasn't a ruder left standing. Not a single Yuji remained.
Next time I want to see it in their eyes
My reflection staring back at me as I bonk them with my rifle
I want to know if after all this I have a reflection at all
Or if I've become a soulless angel of death
*sniff*
Smells like ruder guts, enough to make a bury grind her teeth
And spit
But I keep it nice, I swallow the grit
The dirt caked on my face stings with sweat and powder burn
Before I realized it, we were marching to the next ruder hideout
They never saw us coming
I saw my reflection again
And again
And again
Until I couldn't recognize her at all
*sniff* I'm starting to like that smell
It's kind of nice
I stand with Captain Pee.
The Alliance of Bury's, Frogs, and Catarians
Should rise up and invade Shitbox Consortium space
Put a final end to this madness
Enough of the skirmishes
Of show trials
Petty tabloids feasting on the enless sea of Bury corpses
By our pink blood are all free worlds kept safe
It's time to put an end to this
*sniff*