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titusnowlHe never stood still enough to draw a clear bead on, so the Red Sniper's headshot ended up being a graze above his ear and a hole through his hat. The hat, that was the big thing. The wound didn't hurt as bad as some shit he'd had, and all the blood was in his ear, not getting in his eyes, so fuck it - but his HAT. There was a fucking hole through the brim.
He snapped it off and threw it on the ground, shouting. "YOU FUCKING FUCKER! YOU FUCKING PUT A HOLE IN MY FUCKING HAT! YOU DON'T FUCKING DO THAT! YOU DON'T FUCKING MESS WITH A MAN'S HAT!"
The referee took over the comm, buzzing in his ear and ordering him to put the hat back on. "FUCK YOU, COCKFACE, HE FUCKING PUT A HOLE IN MY FUCKING HAT! WHAT, ARE YOU GONNA COME DOWN HERE AND MAKE ME PUT IT BACK ON? I DIDN'T FUCKING THINK SO!"
The referee kept on, so the Scout took the comm off, too, and threw it down so hard it almost broke. He looked up at the nearest camera, still shouting, in silence now because his microphone was in the comm. The camera crew in the monitoring room got nothing but a nice clear view of him making obscene gestures and shouting - the word "fuck" is extremely easy to lip-read.
This little hissy-fit would probably have gotten him fragged if they hadn't called match just about then - the Reds had snagged the briefcase.
The rest of the Blues blamed the Scout for the loss; he adamantly and volubly denied any responsibility. "It's the fucking Red Sniper's fault, assfags, he's the one who fucking put a hole in my fucking hat! You don't fucking mess with a man's hat!"
He sat in exiled ignominy in the common room, pouting and cradling his hat like a baby. "My fucking hat! LOOK at my fucking hat now." He held it up, finger speared through the bullethole. "You can fucking FUCK my fucking hat now."
"Mebbe YU can," said the Demo meaningfully.
And that was the first time the Scout popped the Demo in the eye.
He snapped it off and threw it on the ground, shouting. "YOU FUCKING FUCKER! YOU FUCKING PUT A HOLE IN MY FUCKING HAT! YOU DON'T FUCKING DO THAT! YOU DON'T FUCKING MESS WITH A MAN'S HAT!"
The referee took over the comm, buzzing in his ear and ordering him to put the hat back on. "FUCK YOU, COCKFACE, HE FUCKING PUT A HOLE IN MY FUCKING HAT! WHAT, ARE YOU GONNA COME DOWN HERE AND MAKE ME PUT IT BACK ON? I DIDN'T FUCKING THINK SO!"
The referee kept on, so the Scout took the comm off, too, and threw it down so hard it almost broke. He looked up at the nearest camera, still shouting, in silence now because his microphone was in the comm. The camera crew in the monitoring room got nothing but a nice clear view of him making obscene gestures and shouting - the word "fuck" is extremely easy to lip-read.
This little hissy-fit would probably have gotten him fragged if they hadn't called match just about then - the Reds had snagged the briefcase.
The rest of the Blues blamed the Scout for the loss; he adamantly and volubly denied any responsibility. "It's the fucking Red Sniper's fault, assfags, he's the one who fucking put a hole in my fucking hat! You don't fucking mess with a man's hat!"
He sat in exiled ignominy in the common room, pouting and cradling his hat like a baby. "My fucking hat! LOOK at my fucking hat now." He held it up, finger speared through the bullethole. "You can fucking FUCK my fucking hat now."
"Mebbe YU can," said the Demo meaningfully.
And that was the first time the Scout popped the Demo in the eye.
