rp_atomic, 2017

The minge sneaks upon the group of roleplayers, spear in hand. He perches himself on a nearby cliff as he watches them type out their scavenging /mes. They seem to be roleplaying their emotions... No longer. The minge hops off of the rock, sustaining damage, only one health point left. No matter. They shall all die. He slowly walks towards them. The roleplayers, unaware of his affiliation, greet him with open arms...

The minge strikes, shoving a spear into the alpha male of the group, if you ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ could even call him that. As the roleplayers scatter and type their /mes, the minge grabs the dead roleplayers gun, and slays the rest of the roleplayers before they could pass 20 feet.

No longer. The minge searches the corpses and area for scripts, for his group, and for the war... The ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ shall fear the strong, and the strong shall CORPSE their enemies, like wheat to a scythe...

No use in prayer, either to Him or the administrators, you are all ♥♥♥♥♥♥, and resisting shall make your death a hundred times more slower and painful.