The mercenary known as The Pyro played with a lighter. Pyro had no real friends, only teammates, and even they were afraid of Pyro. Everyone was afraid of Pyro.
Well, Pyro had one friend. The fire. The fire was always there.
"Mission begins in sixty seconds."
Pyro picked up a flamethrower.
The fire made Pyro happy. It made Pyro laugh. The fire knew so many good jokes.
"Mission begins in five..."
Pyro stepped outside, into the dirt of Dustbowl.
A RED Scout had spotted Pyro. The Scout ran.
The Scout backed into a corner. There was no escape from the flames, the agonizing heat.
The Scout screamed in pain as his flesh melted, and his bones were charred.
The fire knew such good jokes.