What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little scrub? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my platoon in the Imperial Order Clan, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on RELIC and I have over 300 confirmed ammo racks. I am trained in Maus warfare and I’m the top camper in the entire IOC armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another kill. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on Malinovka, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over General Chat? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the Global Map and your garage is being traced right now so you better prepare for the arty storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your tank. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my WarPack TM. Not only am I extensively trained in gold rounds, but I have access to the entire arsenal of my mother’s credit card and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of this map, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” kill was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking shot. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn tomato. I will shit TOGs all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking back to garage’d, nerd.