"Fucking fuck shit fuck fuck shit fuuuck, goddamn it, James, go right, they have an ACR camping the sandbags up there near the silos, Jack, quickscoper coming around behind us, he's pretty good from far away, try using your Spas, I'm going to call these harriers in." Commands spewed forth from the dark haired teenager's mouth into the foam covered grey mouthpiece that was helpfully held in front of his mouth. The sight was this; A young man in a computer chair leaning forward, his face far too close to the television screen. Bright lights and colors flashed in front of his darting eyes, which relayed these colors and patterns to his brain, which decoded them and then pieced them together, deducing that the dark shape popping out from around the corner wasn't good, and then relayed this information to another center in his brain, which then told his hands to move his left thumb up very slightly and quickly, with deadly precision, before pulling the trigger back and holding it there persistently.
The game winning kill was rather average, just another snap to shot, maybe slightly better than usual. He leaned back in his chair. Seven thousand five hundred to three thousand two hundred. Completely owned. He pulled his headset off and adjusted it accordingly, wiping the sweat from his forehead and glancing at his laptop's screen, to see nothing had changed.
"Good job guys, we raped." The familiar tiny sound wave icon popped up next to his name in the waiting lobby. Next map, Strip Mall. He began forming his entire game plan in his head, down to which class he would use.
"Shut the fuck up, you fucking nigger, camping assholes." A computerized voice came through his headset, but he failed to glance up at the name in time.
"You're just butthurt that we pawned you." His friend TimWrecks said, as though rehearsed many times.
"Only person who's butthurt is your mom after I fucked her last night." The voice was coming from XxX1337Sn1p3rXxX.
"Fuck off fucking noobtubing camper."
"Both of you shut the hell up, it's a goddamn game, do better next time." He said in response to the surprisingly low quality sound waves coming through the grey foam ear piece.
Annoyed with it all he angrily pressed the glowing green button, and with a satisfying click, his television became a static blue, and all life left the entertainment box resting below the desk. He slipped his shoes off and wriggled out of his jeans and crawled the three feet to his bed before plopping down for a short four hour sleep before work.