Rhys lounged back into his chair, satisfied after a hard day's drinking. He reached into his desk and, after a few fumbling, drunken attempts, his PC abruptly whirred into life. He let out a deep sigh and pondered how he was going to spend the rest of his valuable time on that day. A rapid succession of ideas burst into his head, possibilities whirling around like snow in the wind. But alas... none entertained him, so he decided (like he always does) to boot up Garrysmod and join his favourite server.

Harrysmod. Good old Harrysmod. Whenever he felt down, he could always join Harrysmod. Everybody there knew his name, and they were always glad he came. On Harrysmod,  everyone's troubles were the same. Today was unlike any other day, upon joining Rhys posted in chat the phrase "how do i turn off a bottle of vodka" to uproarious laughter and after forcing himself to be a traitor, he began gunning down AFKs with his explosive egg-firing M16. The feeling he got from rattling off round after round, exploding all who stood in his path was unrivalled. Some would say it was love and euphoria combined into one, others would say it was a sick depraved obsession. All he knew was that it felt good. In front of him, thousands of ravaged corpses lay strewn about the floor. Slowly, he pulled the empty clip out of his M16 and dropped it to the floor with a clunk. Another fully loaded clip was found in his pocket and reloaded. His head pounded. His veins throbbed. His eyes bulged and darted around the room. No one to be seen, yet the round hadn't ended. Surging with adrenaline and power, but also with a not-so-hidden tinge of doubt, he thundered out in a mighty Scottish voice "WHO THE FUCK DARES CHALLENGE ME!"

A small shuffling echoed out in the room. Rhys smirked. Turning around, he caught sight of his prey. The last innocent, crawling out from underneath a body. A level one named j0hn w1ck without fancy, glowing hats and overpowered machine guns.

An easy kill, certainly. But what he pulled out wiped the smirk off of Rhysraptor's face, what he pulled out was the single most powerful weapon in Harrysmod capable of killing anyone and anything in the right hands. What he pulled out was the deagle. Rhys tried to react, pulling his trigger and letting a storm of eggs fly but it was too late. A single, well placed bullet had already been fired, killing him instantly. INNOCENTS WIN.

"HOW!" Rhys shouted. He typed furiously into admin chat "FUCKING BULLSHIT REEEEEEEEE" and immediately hit his bind which banned John for hacking. Permanently. Feeling satisfied, he passed out in a drunken stupor.

Feeling horribly hungover, Rhys awoke. Birdsong rang out outside his window, and sunshine streamed in through the blinds. Instinctively, he reached for his phone and checked the notifications. 1 new message. dead pigeon @ 12:56 - lmao you fucked up

Suddenly jumping to life, Rhys did a line and ran out his apartment, jumping into his car and heading off to CCX's mansion.

Pulling up in front of the mansion conveyed very clearly to Rhys the immensity of CCX's wealth. He began to feel quite sheepish, staring out at the surrounding duck ponds which stretched out for miles and trying to work up the courage to knock on the 15 foot mahogany doors. Just as he laid so much as a finger on one of the doors, they began to slowly open revealing to him the great hall of Wankpuffin Estate. As they clunked finally open, the windows XP startup sound boomed out around him.

He gingerly stepped inside, heart pounding in his chest. But, to Rhys' surprise, he saw that the edges of the room were lined with familiar faces. Why, it was the entirety of the staff team + a few extras! They were all laughing, making jokes drinking and having fun! Rhys now felt a lot less nervous, it felt to him like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Obama Llama strolled up to him, beer in his hands. "Oh, you were invited to the party too!" he said, smiling. "Party?" Rhys replied. Obama suddenly looked quite concerned. "ohh, uhh...yeah" he said, averting his eyes.

Then, a voice, gritty and distorted yet quite clearly slurring came over the intercom. "Rhysraptor into my office now, please", it said. It was the voice of CCX.

"It's that way" Obama said, pointing in the direction of a long, dark hallway with a door at the end.

That heavy feeling came back to Rhys now. That dread. Sluggishly, he began walking toward the door. Upon arriving in front of it, he reached out to knock and it opened by itself. The room before him was astonishing. Every display of decadence known to man was housed within. Persian carpets. Marble fireplaces. Old oak bookshelves, each shelf packed with rare books. A Gutenberg bible, a first issue superman comic and 14 copies of Teen Age, just to name a few. And at the end of the room there was a huge desk. Behind it, on an equally massive chair sat dead pigeon. Every kind of alcoholic beverage container lay empty, strewn about the floor beside him. On his face, a look of pure hopelessness. "Do you remember J0hn w1ck?"

Rhys stood silent. "Tell me, do you remember j0hn w1ck!" CCX questioned angrily. Rhys responded "Oh, j0hn w1ck! Yeah, he was a right twat - obviously hacking". CCX slowly stood up and slapped Rhys for 119. "cunt" he said, in a low voice - almost laughing now.

"What?", rhys said. "HE WAS REDLINE'S ALT" CCX shouted, laughing maniacally now. "Red_Line's...alt.." rhys said, slowly, with a feeling akin to his heart sinking into the floor. CCX suddenly stopped laughing, his face again resumed a resting depression. "Listen to me" he whispered "You don't have much time, i've lured the best of the best here to help you defeat him but that is ALL i'm going to do, okay?"

"I...I'm sorry" Rhys stammered. "It's too late now for apologies" CCX replied. "Good luck, and may harry help you." He then put on his jetpack, and flew directly out of the window. Abandoned and alone, Rhys stood still in the centre of the office.

Stepping back out into the main hall, Rhys felt like he was going to die. The talking, laughing and singing had stopped and there was silence. "I may not have been the best cm..." Rhys started. "YEAH I AGREE, HAHA LOL" hodd chimed in. "Oh shut it you minge, let him talk" Inster said. "Anyway, I may not have been the best cm but if I can do anything, I can use my biased staff team and loyal regulars to stop a player from being unbanned. I'm going to be honest with everyone here today, I banned Red_Line for hacking and now...he's coming for revenge." Rhys said, grimly. Everyone in the room looked at each-other, as if they'd been told some sort of sick joke. As the silence deepened, they realised he wasn't joking. "But do not despair, because gathered here in this room, we have the best assortment of players from all of Harrysmod." He continued with growing intensity "I believe, with all of your help, we may be able to defeat him. Now, who's going to stand here and fight?!"

One by one, everyone stood up. Pulling on their favourite hats and taking out their favourite weapons, they prepared for the battle of the century.

In the distance, the sound of a car grew slowly louder. Without speaking a word and without sharing so much as a glance everyone got into position. Then, the engine stopped. Two heavy metallic clangs and the unmistakable sound of footsteps, growing closer and closer with each stride filled the deafening quiet.

Suddenly, the door flew open and Insert charged out, followed by Whip and Inster. Red_Line stood before them, staring, in the middle of the avenue. "You know why I am here" He began "I am here t-" An ear-splittingly loud shotgun  blast  sounded out, echoing in the valley. Red_Line's body flew five metres forward and hit the ground with a thud. He was definitely dead.

And behind where Red_Line had been standing, lay CCX, M3 barrel still smoking. Rhys sprinted out and knelt next to him. He wasn't a doctor, and even he could see he was in bad shape. Ribs and neck obliterated from the insane recoil, legs and feet broken from the jetpack fall, he was but moments from death. "Come.....closer...." he whispered out. Rhys put his ear next to his mouth, desperately listening for what could be his last words. "sosig" he coughed out, smiling. And with that, he died.