Amazing read! Badass of the Week: Dipprasad Pun

“What the fuck did I get myself into?”, Dipprasad Pun suddenly and instinctively kicked it into Ultimate Mega Gurkha Freak-Out Limit Break Mode. In a moment of berserker clarity, Pun took one look around, grabbed the heavy machine gun that had been positioned on the roof, and decided that if he was going to die he was going to make goddamned sure that he took as many of those fuckers with him as possible. With a mighty yell, the 5′ 7″ tall Sergeant shouted “I WILL KILL YOU ALL RARARARGHGHGHHH!!!!!!!” in his native language, ripped the machine gun up off its fucking tripod, and started firing indiscriminately at everything around him in one gigantic Rambo-style clusterfuck of munchy crunchy full-metal-jacketed carnage.


“Who are you?”
“I’m your worst nightmare.”

For the next fifteen minutes or so, Sergeant Dipprasad Pun went completely fucking out of his mind batshit insane. Surrounded on all sides in a scene that makes me think of the rooftop finale for Mercy Hospital in Left 4 Dead, Pun fought off assaults from all sides of his fortified rooftop position, somehow avoiding being shot by thirty-plus guys with automatic weapons and explosives launchers as he laid down a curtain of bullets so over-the-top that it would have made John Woo jizz. Firing from the hip like the goddamned Terminator wasting those cop cars with the minigun in T2, Pun held back the Taliban assault on the town, blowing through all 400 rounds of ammunition for the machine gun – every single bullet in the rooftop bunker – in the span of just a few minutes. When the supply of large-caliber heavy weapons ammunition ran out, Pun ditched the MG and started grabbing grenades, two at a time, chucking them in every direction like he was dishing out beads from a Mardi Gras rooftop (only instead of topless drunk babes he was throwing them at terrorists, which is pretty much the exact opposite of topless drunk babes, but whatever). Seventeen high explosive fragmentation grenades cratered the landscape around him, fragging the shit out of anything that did or didn’t have a bullet in it, but yet this insane-o-tron motherfucker still wasn’t done turning himself into a one-man nuclear explosion – he was determined to put out more firepower than a friggin’ Cylon Basestar, and nothing was going to stand in the way of his inexorable desire to massacre the bejeezus out of any terrorists within a twenty-mile radius. With his machine gun and grenade supply depleted, he kicked over the ammo boxes, pulled his service rifle and continued popping caps into any and all deserving asses.

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