Corporal Wiggle raised a gooey appendage. “Sir, isn’t that a bit… much for a suburban skirmish?”
The human—a lanky creature named Kyle—finally clicked. The screen flashed. The familiar, chaotic jingle of Worms W.M.D. erupted from the speakers. Reginald felt the sacred tingle of digital incarnation. In a puff of pixelated smoke, he materialized on a 2.5D battlefield: a suburban backyard, complete with a trampoline, a garden gnome, and a suspiciously placed oil drum. worms w.m.d pc
“Wiggle,” Reginald said, loading a bazooka, “there is no ‘too much’ when you can call in a napalm strike from a flying toilet.” Corporal Wiggle raised a gooey appendage
A text box popped up. It was from Kyle.
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