So His Vileness and I were just talking about games and decided this comment needed a post of its own.
I’ve got an idea for a really realistic FPS game. Call it “Grunt Life”.
You sit around for 11 hours filling sandbags, taking a shit, looking at pr0n, jacking off, policing up cigarette butts, cleaning the head, burning POL drums of shit, and cleaning your weapon.
Then you get a FRAGO, put on your pack (at this point the game slices open your shoulders, hits you in the lower back with a sledgehammer, and drives over your feet with a 6by) and hump ten hours to set up an OP. While your humping empty 6 ton’s drive by you in the same direction with long haired pogues laughing at you as they kick up nice clouds of dust for you to breathe while you enjoy your little stroll.
You get to spend four hours digging through rock and hacking through tree roots with a broken e-tool. You’re rewarded with a 6 inch deep slit trench which you get to hand over to some other asshole because you have to ruck up and move to contact.
You then spend eight hours humping through shitty terrain while your Lieutenant tries to figure out which side of the map is north and what that funny thing with the spinning needle is for. The game will inject acid into your thighs and Novocaine into your fingers.
Then you trip over a rock an break your ankle. The Doc gives you a Motrin and tells you to lace up your boot tight. Real tight. You get to hump another 4 hours.
Then somebody you never see will shoot at you and someone else will shoot back at him. The entire firefight will last 5 seconds, but you get to spend the next 4 hours “consolidating you position”, which means sitting on your ass in the rain while someone else looks for the little bastard that just shot at you. You’ll find a blood trail but no body.
Then you get to hump back for 12 hours uphill because the Lieutenant finally figured out the map and found a “short cut”.
When you get back to your OP someone has taken a shit in your fighting position and it’s raining. A lot.
The game ends with mail call and a “Dear John” letter from your wife informing you that she’s cleaned out your meager savings account so she can pay the rent for the Jodie motherfucker whose been fucking her for the past 6 months. He’s such a nice guy you know and will pay you back of course.
Think anyone will wanna play?
It’s a grunt thing.