Moke just typed back: “I am made of raspberry. You are made of salt.”
(…until the next patch, when Poptart got nerfed into the ground. But by then, Moke had already moved on to playing “Suspicious Banana.”)
The Last Flash on the Server
Moke picked Poptart . Poptart was a sentient breakfast pastry whose only ability was to leave a trail of jam that made enemies slip. He had no gun. He was a joke character.
The match began. 3… 2… 1… FIGHT!
And then it happened. The jam-covered exploding barrel, dislodged by Slayer’s sliding, rolled gently toward the stuck enemies. KABOOM. The barrel didn’t kill them. But it knocked them off balance—straight into the goo pit.
Moke’s Poptart jumped. At the apex of his pathetic hop, he hit his ability: . A massive sphere of sticky, purple goo exploded from his chest. It didn’t do damage. It didn’t stun. But it coated everything —the walls, the floor, the exploding barrels, and both enemies. 2v2lol
Leo didn’t hesitate. He emptied his clip. Every bullet, every ability, every cooldown. Slayer’s ninja parried the first three, but the fourth—a jam-covered, sticky, ludicrous shot—slid right through his guard and detonated in his face.