Fire is good.
I have a confession: I like to burn people. Actually, I LOVE to burn people. Burning people is the only thing that has kept me alive this long. Why you ask? Why must I burn people just to survive? Well for starters, I worked at the Happy Farmer’s Corporation:
I found the job in an ad in my local newspaper. The ad read something like:
JOB OPENING
SECURITY GUARD NEEDED FOR SILO
VERY HIGH SALARY
NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY
MUST LIKE FIRE
I had nothing against fire, so I took the job. My training, which lasted about 3 hours, consisted of learning how to operate a state-of-the-art flamethrower. I was puzzled at why I was being trained to use a flamethrower instead of a gun, but I was a scared when they gave me my uniform – which was a head-to-toe, flame-retardant red suit and a breathing mask with oxygen tanks. I rationalized this by thinking it was for insurance reasons. They just didn’t want me to burn myself. But then, why give me a flamethrower in the first place? So, as you can imagine I approached my first day on the job with a little apprehension.
Now I assumed that I would just be able to relax, make a few rounds of the grounds and get some reading done. I mean, who would want to break into a silo? Maybe I would have to chase some vagrants off, but nothing too serious. But on my first day, as soon as I punched in, some crazy teenager ran right into the silo! This was him:
He ran right by me and went down the stairs into the basement. I tried yelling, but due to the breathing mask I was wearing it came out as a muffled mess, so I ran after him. By the time I got to the stairs he was already coming back up, and to my horror it looked like he had stolen some kind of briefcase! And even worse, he had pulled a small shotgun out and was about to fire! Instinct took over and I squeezed the trigger of my flamethrower. In about half a second the kid was charred.
I did not even have one second to take in this life-altering experience because I heard a small explosion behind me. I turned, and saw this crazy guy:
This guy was running right at me, and he had a rocket launcher that seemed to be pointed in my general direction. I ducked behind a doorway as a blast from a rocket hit the place I was just standing. I could hear him running towards the doorway, so I launched a stream of fire, and I heard him scream “FIRE, FIRE”!!! He ran off.
My heart was pounding, my body was quivering, and my mind was racing. After a few moments had I decided that this job was the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I started for the front door – I was done.
Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw a glimmer, a shadow or something strange. I looked again and to my shock a man dressed in a suit popped out of nothing in a huff of smoke. It was this guy:
He came at me with a knife, so I burned him too. Then to my shock and horror, I saw another man in a suit that looked exactly like the first! This broke my mind. There were multiple people trying to kill me who were just popping out of nowhere! From that point on I was burning everything that moved, anything that looked like it was about to move and even things that didn’t move. I had lost my mind.
The rest of day was spent burning various people who were trying to get into the silo and steal that red briefcase, and every time I killed one, a few minutes later he would show up again!
This was one of them. He stunk of some kind of liquor, and had more explosives than Wily E. Coyote. I took him down by getting behind him – he smelled like pork.
This guy had the biggest gun I had ever seen before. Fortunately he was as dumb and slow as he was big, and I just circle-strafed around him, burning him to a crisp. He smelled like french fries.
When it started to get dark outside, a female voice announced that “we” were all losers, and some music started playing. At that moment the onslaught of crazy trespassers stopped. I had killed 143 people with my trusty flamethrower on my first day. I defended that red briefcase. I had survived. I raised my flamethrower in the air and let out the loudest laugh I could. Fire had kept me alive!
I could have quit after my first day, but we do live in hard times, and I had lost my mind. So I stayed on. I had worked at the Happy Farmers’ Corporation for a year when I found out that my employers were part of a larger, more sinister corporation: Reliable Excavation Demolition. They are an evil Corporation bent on world domination, and I had been defending their secret plans that were hidden in that red briefcase.
I turned in my flamethrower, quit the job and found professional help.
I am doing better now. I have spent the last couple weeks at the Valve Mental Hospital:
I am not allowed near any lighters, electrical outlets, stoves, axes, wood, other patients and anything blue. My Doctor says that I have improved, but I should not go back to work at that silo ever again. I no longer think some guy in a blue suit is going to pop out of nothing and try and kill me with a knife, but every once in a while I just want to burn someone! The pills I get take care of that feeling…
But I love fire.
When it comes to defending oneself, a flamethrower is really the only way to go.
This post was inspired by Hunter Red’s (500) Days of Orgs.
There has also been a lot of TF2 posts lately:
How to Enjoy Team Fortress 2: A Review and Gu… By Garret Staus
Rediscovering Team Fortress 2 By Christian Rydberg