You make short work of a new brother gained.
FCT: D --> I presume these were lesser beings, toiling in the weaponry you may wield
FAG: I should stand 8ack and let me use it!
FAG: You're vaguely fucking shit up is the fact that she's happy.
FAG: It takes time, and is only holding you 8ack.
HE GOT A NEW LOW. OF DEPRESSING EMOTIONS.