(no subject)
When you:
- have been a medic for Builders League United's field teams for many years;
- are almost completely certain that your medical school burned down years ago;
- find yourself back at the medical school anyway;
- find yourself in a lecture hall headed inexorably for the lecturer's podium;
- realize that the entire lecture hall has been packed with every single RED you can remember ever having killed, or remember assisted in having killed;
- realize that you are completely and utterly alone;
- realize that none of the REDs are armed;
- realize that they're all focusing on you with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns;
- realize that they're not moving...
Well, there's really only one thing to do, isn't there?
"Guten morgen." The Medic adjusts his glasses, steps up to the podium, and smiles. It is not a nice smile. "Gentlemen, if you vill please look under your desks, you should find a pencil und notebook for each vun of you. Class begins in fünf, vier, drei..."
- have been a medic for Builders League United's field teams for many years;
- are almost completely certain that your medical school burned down years ago;
- find yourself back at the medical school anyway;
- find yourself in a lecture hall headed inexorably for the lecturer's podium;
- realize that the entire lecture hall has been packed with every single RED you can remember ever having killed, or remember assisted in having killed;
- realize that you are completely and utterly alone;
- realize that none of the REDs are armed;
- realize that they're all focusing on you with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns;
- realize that they're not moving...
Well, there's really only one thing to do, isn't there?
"Guten morgen." The Medic adjusts his glasses, steps up to the podium, and smiles. It is not a nice smile. "Gentlemen, if you vill please look under your desks, you should find a pencil und notebook for each vun of you. Class begins in fünf, vier, drei..."