The survivors may BM us, but they cannot break our spirit.
Even now they advance on our matches, to seize by cheese what they cannot win by right.
They cannot imagine what awaits them.


Though they sweep over our lands like the sands of Eyrie,
never again will we bow before their rulebook;
never again endure their bully perks;
never again endure their Discord SWFs.
We will strike without warning and without mercy,
fighting as one mallet, one saw, one mask.
We will shatter their escape streaks and haunt their minds, drenching the basement with their blood.
And as our last chainsaw sweep tears at their lungs;
as we rise again from the ruins of our nerfs...