He pulled out his secret weapon: a he’d crafted during the enemy's last turn. As the bass dropped, the world vibrated, and the enemy sniper danced right off his ledge and into a strategically placed Sentry Gun .
Boggy B looked out over the scorched earth. Between the tanks, the mechs, and the custom-crafted explosives, the old ways of "poke and retreat" were dead. This was total, high-octane annihilation.
“Target in sight,” Boggy squeaked into his radio. “Requesting a extraction.”