Ok. Listen up bud. You’re a kid, and you’re getting cocky. You snuck in a few good quick scopes and got a few points ahead of me, but you have no chance. I am a Call of Duty god. I would be killing terrorists in Iraq if it weren’t for the fact that I would punch the drill sergeant in the face if he even looked at me funny. So don’t get cocky, bud. Or just like my kill/death ratio, you’re going down, kid. As soon as I finish the campaign I’m tracking your IP, hunting you down and beating the crap out of you. You’ve been warned.

The year is 2034. QT lies on his death bed. As he lies there in his last breath he whispers: "Wow, that actually killed me."