If Dr. Suess Played BF2

Feedback Received!

(a piece I penned over a decade ago, when my husband and son played BF2 along with an entire community of fellow enthusiasts)

Every Mash, down in Mashtuur
Liked spawn camping, a lot
But The Sniper
Just north of the Station, did not

The Sniper hated spawn camping!
And the whole idea behind 'em
He'd often take them out, one-by-one
Just to remind them

It could be because his grip was too tight,
It could be, perhaps, the thinning air at that height

But, whatever the reason,
The air, or his grip
He lay motionless above them,
Waiting for just one to trip

Staring down from his perch
With a fifty-yard glare
At trigger-happy idiots
Who played so unfair

For he knew that every Mashy down in Mashtuur below
Was counting the minutes 'til their new stats would show

"They're shooting the spawners!"
He snarled, spitting chew
"Hostiles spotted!" he reported
Though, what good it would do?

For, he knew the commander
Was fighting elsewhere
And the resources--he needed
Were being used up over There

"I must stop this spawn camping!
Right here and right now!"
He took out some more campers
While planning out how

In a few minutes, he knew
The Mash noobs and Mash vets
Would spawn off their squad leader
To catch him in their nets

They'd climb up the building to find him
Over the burnt-out stores
Though only a few would be left
Once they'd found his claymores...

But Aha! An idea formed in the Sniper's head
An idea so brilliant, it ensured they'd be dead

As the spawn-campers fired
He crept quietly away
Giving an oath that this hour
All Spawn-Campers would pay

Sneaking so silent
Like an owl at night,
The Sniper got the enemy commander
Lined up in his sight

But whom should pop up into his line of fire so clear?
WTF? it's a medic... yelling "Get first aid here!"

The medic spammed him with kits
Yelling out so very shrill
Though almost never tempted,
The Sniper considered "teamkill"

Though the medic left swiftly
The shot had left, too
The Sniper thought dark things
But, then... he knew what to do

Rolling out of the alley
He sprinted, he ran;
He dropped into the 'river'
He paddled, he swam

The enemy commander was not far away
The last flag was falling and the base was fair play

The Sniper re-loaded his rifle
And assurance he made
That he had enough ammo
And at least one grenade

Then he said "Request UAV"
And his commander complied;
Many of the spawn campers
That he hated, were inside.

All the windows were dark,
There was calm in the air
The spawn campers were
Walking about without care

The Sniper aimed for the unit that mattered
He took out a few more as the rest of them scattered

Then he slithered and slunk
With a smile most unkind
And laid out his very last,
Deadly claymore mine

Alas! in the distance,
A whining, awful sound...
The enemy base exploded
As Arty shells hit the ground

The Sniper went flying, up high into the air
His rifle still in hand, his eyes still in stare

His stats have reflected,
We are happy to say
That he got six dozen spawn-campers
In one round, that one day

By L. R. Styles

Posted Nov 5, 2016, 5:25 PM UTC · edited