TF2, Dustbowl valley, 2007.
It was the second part of the map, and i was on the BLU tema, the atackers.
It was a great match that one, 12 players on each team.
If was a scout, 3th highest score, and just taken our first control point.
We thought we could take them, so we rushed for their control point, but they were prepared.
Sentries, killed half my team, me and the rest were taken by their pyros, from behind.
We pushed all we could but we didn't get forward, and the clock was ticking away.
Theres was 1 minute away, and we got desperate.
Our top player assembled a team of 5, the five best, and i was amongst them.
We rushed forward, taking them down one by one, lossing only our demoman and medic.
Our top player sacraficed himself, to take out the sentries, with his mighty rocket launcher.
Our other soldier ran for the platform, clock ticking away, and me blasting the enemies.
He stood there winning for us, when disaster stroke in the last second, and a hidden sniper took his head.
I took my bat and avenged his death, but time was gone, and we had lost the match.
When i was begining to flee i heard a voice, an engouraging voice, and it said, "overtime".
I looked around no one was here, i was alone, and i knew what to do.
I rushed forard , when i saw one coming, an enemy, a treat, a heavy.
He readied his barrel, and began to run, pistol in hand, shotting at his face.
Bullets flew all around me, a few of them hit, but not enough to kill me.
I fired myself shot after shot, then in the middle of his laugh, he screamed and felt to the ground.
I said "Hell yeah, and ran to the platform, securing our win, already thinking about the next stage of dustbowl.
Then i heard a KABOOM, followed by a drunken laughter, as fate would have it, i didn't see the sticky bombs.
My Epic poem from TF2.
I call it "A Dustbowl Drama"