“You’re standing on the C: drive, Rusty.”
In the real world, Kyle stared at the black screen. The PC was rebooting. The Worms W.M.D. save file was corrupted. And somewhere in the digital ether, Commander Reginald “The Ribcage” Squirm was already plotting his return—one catastrophic blue screen at a time. worms w.m.d pc
“Right, lads,” Reginald clicked, surveying the enemy team—The Crimson Crawlers—on the far side of the wading pool. “Standard protocol. We have tanks, helicopters, and the holy grail: the W.M.D. drop. That’s ‘Weapons of Mass Destruction’ for the newt.” “You’re standing on the C: drive, Rusty
Corporal Wiggle raised a gooey appendage. “Sir, isn’t that a bit… much for a suburban skirmish?” “You’re standing on the C: drive
“F5, you coward!” Reginald hissed from the petri dish beside the monitor.