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His crosshair placement is so bad he aims at the floor like he’s trying to shoot ants.
He refuses to drop weapons for teammates, even when he has 16K and we’re all broke.
He smells like Cheeto dust and sweat, which somehow transfers through voice chat.
Every time he dies, he screams "CHEATER!" instead of admitting he has the reaction speed of a potato.
His utility usage is tragic—he either blinds himself or throws smokes that help the enemy more than us.
He buys the Negev unironically and thinks it’s a "pro strat."
His blood pressure skyrockets every time he loses a 1v1, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to explode mid-game.
Remember those days when you used to carry me through every match like a champ? You were the one putting the team on your back, and I was just along for the ride.
Now it’s like the tables have turned... I guess I’m the one doing the heavy lifting while you’re over there struggling to hit your shots. What happened, man? Need a new chair? New gamer socks?
Something needs to change i cant keep carrying your bum ass!