"Pfft, prem on ETF2L?!" I scoff at some lowlife plebeian. This is the kind of thing that pisses me off more than anything in the world: When shitters that counter strafe at roughly 400 pixels instead of 609 on badlands middle try and fucking BM me. Like inhale my scattergun badkid. You might be wondering, what rank are you in the heirarchy of ETF2L to be talking such trash? Heh, well I don't play that petty open trash. I am among the secret intergalactic professional TF2 team that consists of TF2 LEGENDS such as Albert Einstein, Genghis Khan, and Cthulhu. We fight over fucking PLANETS against this observable universe's most talented squadrons. Players like Xerxes the Conqueror of Gullywash, or XyXyx the Forbidden Solly, are mere fucking BOTS TO ME. The only time I miss is when I lose track of the RNG frame calculation, (which I've memorized all 98 decillion outcomes of; mind you) of my pristine pistol tracking. We play on servers made specifically made by GabeN's resurrected grandfather; 5 ping? Try a ping of 8 x 12⁻⁷⁸ you insignificant swine. Tactics become so in-depth and mind-bending that one of Earth's star players and good friend of mine, Pythagoras, lost his fucking mind and died in a scrimmage from strats so genius that b4nny himself would shit his pants. So if you think even inviting me to your mge server is okay, you must be out of your fucking mind. I'm the best TF2 player to ever exist in this fucking DIMENSION, stay mad and bad kid.
|Signed Up||March 13, 2015|
|Last Posted||April 16, 2021 at 5:00 PM|
|Posts||383 (0.2 per day)|