420BLAZEITFAGGOT, Sincerely Satan
Turns on the game system and grabs the controller
He sits, his cloak hood flipped back to his shoulder
Entering the lobby, he mutes every bastard beholder
Digital gats in the holsters, about to be acting the soldier
Basically ……
The match starts and he spawns at a door, in a room
Navigating quietly at first and he ignores his platoon
Quick eyes and reflexes and YES he was born with 'em too
This match: a single life/hardcore deathmatch board, he assumes
With no more than a move, he enters the next area quick
Nary an itch to his finger and weapon shouldered squarely, commits
Through the next door, spots first kill, its scary as shit
Three targets, holds fire, eyes ammo and wishes he'd carried more clips
BLLLAATATATATA, fully auto - the targets each catch various hits
Bullets buried in hips, he continues to the hallway missing barely a tick
These moments go inherently quick ……
It's like
BOOM HEADSHOT ……
Suddenly, the bell rings and halls fill to capacity
He checks, estimating the ratio of civilians to magazines
Then time goes still; this is real and a tragedy
An all-to-familiar story of boyhood thrill and audacity
Building on casualties, his strength of will mixed with mastery
With a villian's practicality, brilliant yet baffling
Boys and girls duck and hide as people deal with his accuracy
"Faggot" as he pops a letterman jacket dude, skilled in tenacity
Everywhere echoes the screams so shrill, its a rhapsody
"Noob" somebody yells as he's drop-shotting children so naturally
Xx360NOSCOPEHEADSHOTxX ……
Dastardly bastard breathes as sirens burn and he urgently busts
He's missing more shots now but some hit as he's murdering husks
Walks into a classroom, kids under the desks squirming too much
Goddamn campers, unworthy to fuss over as he's currently rushed
Quiet now except for crying as the heater speaks and surely it gusts
A familiar face returns his smile before their reassurance combusts
In a bloodly crimson cloud--their last lesson in learning distrust
Classroom silent, in the corner a nerd stirs, nervously flushed
Outside, the cops have arrived and the school is perfectly hushed
Earnest with lust, the match is ending and he sighs, curbing disgust
Purpose enough, steps into the fresh air, silence abounds
He stands before the police department, eyes to the clouds
Frightened by sound, grip on the gat tightened and down
Inside, he feels the actual boy struggling to fight him aloud
Puts gat right to his crown, forcing the boy's face to smile so round
The boy watches everything internally and privately drowns
Three, two, one - a CLICK then whiteness - "HE'S DOWN!"
Cops rush to put pressure on the head wound, wiping his brow
Basically ……
Killer child's eyes glaze over, he was normal as far as weak boys go
The match ends, Satan with a kill-to-death ratio of seventeen-point-oh