As they drink from your puddle, you raise the javelin and kill one. Then another. Finally, the leader of group looks up. He's aware that he is a mutant, and accepts his fate. The monster whispers thank you as you bring down the pike one last time.
Alone, surrounded by death and covered with blood, you are unsure of what to do. Why were you so passionate about being in the Olympics? Was it worth the life of five mutants and one pervert? No, of course not. You think about calling the police, but decide listening to Limp Bizkit would be better.
When I try to clear the ball, run into me at a thousand miles per hour, sending me flying halfway across the map. If the ball is coming down in front of the opposing goal and I'm in position to tap it in, run into me at a thousand miles per hour. Never stop slamming into me at a thousand miles per hour, unless you can slam into me even faster.
eSports are getting more attention, but these new non-nerd spectators have no idea what's going happening. Help them understand how and why you've decided to waste your life with these simple approaches.
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