You must get all the girls, WorkerDrone, with your impeccable sense of scrutiny and unceasing quest to find flaws in blatantly silly matters. That you live for the day you can brag to yourself in the mirror, how you bravely vanquished that amazingly well crafted, twisted lie that insidious foe wrought upon the forum dwellers, leading them astray from the true path of the counter-necrotic. How with but quick wit and true gravelly nerve, you strike home the point that humour has no place upon the modern battlefield.
And with every keystroke, you hammer it in. Proudly. Unforgivingly. You have no regrets. You know that it's alright to have a terrible sense of humour because you have seen things no man can ever dream. You dream every night of those unrelenting horrors, the torment that awaits your fellow man. You know that no amount of frivolous laughter will save their poor, damned souls. Only your intellect and experience in this, future disaster, calculated now and only now, in this thread of data wherin information will be spread can save us now.
Yes, WorkerDrone. Cleverly you prevented the masses from falling to trickery that simply plastic toy instruments would have saved them from an imaginary horde of imaginary scale. No doubt the world owes you a great debt. Allow me to take honor of first serve, WorkerDrone. I salute you!