darkness of my team leader s backyard, I assured myself that soon I will have my revenge on all of those players. Soon After a restless sleep, I arose from my bed early on the day before i63. This was the final LAN. This was the LAN in which everything will come to a close. In this year, I will finally have my ELO, my frags, my retribution! My whole tragic career had led to this, and I was ready.
I had been fat-kidded, shit-talked, humiliated, bullied, fragged, starved of a good team, tortured, and ridiculed for far too long. The TF2 community are a cruel and brutal community, and the only thing I could do to even the score was to return that cruelty one-thousand fold. The community's rejection of me is a declaration of war, and if it s war they want, then war they shall have. It will be a war that will result in their complete and utter annihilation. I will deliver a blow to my enemies that will be so catastrophic it will kill this dumb fucking game once and for all.
It was time to plot exactly what I will do on the LAN of Retribution. I will be a god, punishing top players and all of the community for their depravity. I will finely deliver to them all of the pain and suffering they ve dealt to me for so long.
The date was out of the question. This IS the LAN that i will be taking my revenge in. I tried to make the most out of every minute before the LAN. There was no a single moment where I wasn't in a pug or a DM server after I opened TF2. Every pug, I would get bullied by players who thought they were better than me. I had enough after my third pug and I decided to calm down by going outside, and I wouldn t return until late in the night. I wandered around aimlessly in a beautiful park,
took a stroll along the beach, sipped latte at a cafe, and watched the sunset at a contemplation spot, staying there until the stars lit up the night sky. But there was no escaping the sight of young couples doing the exact same thing together. It made me even more eager for the LAN of Retribution to come. My life was a living hell, and that hell needed to come to an end.
I had enough money left to live comfortably for a long time, but that wasn't gonna happen. I used the money to buy supplies that were vital to my plans. First, I needed to buy a third handgun,
just in case one of them jam. I needed two working handguns at the same time, as that was how I planned to commit suicide; with two simultaneous shots to the head. I also needed to buy magazine clips and ammunition, as well as knives and carrying cases for my equipment.
Even in , the little twinge of hope inside me never faded. It remained, as if it were tiny, flickering flame of a candle in a dark room. I suppose that little flame is what prompted me to actually keep bumping my LFT.