After a long absence, it was decided to crawl back into DayZ, snuggle up with that glitchy, buggy, 1/8 assed whore. A search for a good server was launched. No speedfreak zombies, let us have a map marker so we're not constantly asking, "where are you? By the one building that looks like a barn, but not the brown kind, the white kind? Which town? I KNOW you don't read Russian, but what's it sort of look like? Pretend the letters are made by the scribbles of a retarded kid from public school. Oh, you were just killed? Nevermind then, just respawn," preferably with spawn selection so that we don't have to hunt each other down whenever we do die. We're adults, with jobs and lives and pets, we can't spend an entire day just jerking off in a virtual world like we used to, we wanna get in, have some fun, then go do that adult stuff. Personally, I'd like less of the military shit too, if I wanna play as some Rambo with an M60 and RPG7, I'll load up Battlefield, at least they full on half-assed that game.
Eventually, after searching, we found one, it didn't have all our wants, but it seemed to have our needs. I spawned in as a "Survivor", for whatever reason this loadout had me wearing a Press Vest and carrying an Uzi, a newsman with an Uzi, a Nuzi, if you will. Throberella on the other hand, chose to be a "Hunter." I told him he was a dumbtard, because the Hunter comes with a crossbow. For those not in the know, the crossbow is a pile of wet shit. Generally it is beyond worthless, it's just this annoying thing that gets in your way and takes up space in a loot pile. You'll be scavving and see it there from a distance and think, "oh sweet, a shotgun!" and then you get up on it and see that it's not. It's like waking up Christmas morning, seeing a Nintendo 64 box, only to find it's stuffed with socks and school supplies. That's a story to tell your therapist 15 years later.
It's just so, so worthless. Yeah, it sounds cool, everyone thinks they're gonna be Daryl Dixon, badass survivalist, all he needs is his trusty crossbow. Then more than three zombies show up and he ends up running because you can't aim the fucking thing. If it had some usable sites, maaaaaaaaaybe it would be worth the trouble, but no. On top of that, but we're living in a land literally littered with suppressed machine guns, Zardoz flew through and puked up silenced Uzis and M4s, and you're packing this thing that looks like it came from some Chinese mail order catalog. You HOPE the crossbow says "badass" but really it just says "kill me, put me out of my misery, I'm too stupid to survive."
So that's what Throbbert had, the bastard offspring of a box of socks and a special needs kid's helmet.
So we spawn up by Pusta. We're not here for any serious gaming, just a scout mission, check the server, see if it jives. I don't like that folks can buy attack choppers and tanks and whatnot, even having the Uzi (even if Uzi does it) feels too much. Gimmie civilian guns, Lee Enfield and a Makarov, that's all THIS reporter needs to survive! But, I can get down with the Apaches and SMAWs if it's a good server, I'm not totally inflexible.
We meet in town, tag each other as friendsies so we can bloodbag and heal and get an apartment together or whatever else it does, and then set to scavving the town. Some Pepsi, canned beans, hatchets, the usual.
Suddenly, from the North comes the sound of a helicopter. I'd be worried, but if I die I can just come back with another Uzi, I ain't got nothing yet. We watch as a Littlebird passes by, a man jumps from it, opening a parachute.
"Hey, lets see if he's a friend!" I say optimistically and completely unironically. He could be a Canadian, after all.
The parachute slowly descends and lands in that sloping field North of the town, with the path to what was once Ewok Village 2000 in a past server. We wander over and find the parachute empty and spazzing out in the ground, fully deployed like it's made of plastic. Neither of us are at all surprised. We discuss what might have happened. Maybe he fell through the ground? Maybe he didn't open it soon enough and he died? Maybe he's a wizard?
"Hey look, a pig!" Throbbert shouts.
"That's not a pig you stupid shit, it's a goat!"
We run over and see it's a brown sheep.
"I wanna kill it," Throbbert announces, "take it's meat!"
"No," says I, "lets not, he's our friend."
"But it could be made of chocolate!" Throberella protests.
Just then a man appears where the parachute was (wizard!?).
"Lets go see what he's about," I say.
And we do. We run down and see a man also wearing a Press Vest pulling a mountain bike from his own ass. I, also being a news man, walk up to make introductions, Reporter's Union, Local 6942088 and all that.
He steps back from his task and raises his H&K space rifle from the year 2525, I look at him and wonder out loud, what's he doing? We're pals, friends, guys, union members!
And he fires a burst into my belly.
The world is quickly going black, I see myself crumbling to the ground, with my last breath I shout to Throbbert, "Kill him!"
The last thing I saw, before the darkness took me, was this asshole catching a crosbow bolt in the back of his neck. I died cackling.
Welcome to DayZ.
quote:
Originally posted by Will938:
If you don't become a screen writer for comedy movies, then you're an asshole.
