VTOL VR Wiki:April Fools Archive/VTOL VR: The Sanguine Avengeance Of Jeff
- "I'll show you what true pain looks like. You're already fucked."
- ― Jeff
VTOL VR: The Sanguine Avengeance Of Jeff is VTOL VR's first story-based game expansion, released on March 32nd, 2022. It follows the brilliant dark comedy of a story about how I, Jeff, just so happen to be the most dangerous, badass guy in the history of this sorry excuse of a military video game. You cross me, bad things happen. And I get to write a decent story about it. Win-win for me.
Storyline
POV: You're me, looking down on this shithole of a world. Pathetic, you all are.
What? Did you come here for some Shakespeare-grade story plot? Well guess what, fuckass? It's not that complicated. Like I said, bad shit happens to people who cross me. And people just go and cross me anyways. Need some proof? Then stick around, headset-humper... you're about to get the ride of your life. Well, if the Gs don't crush your ass before then. Heh.
You see this right here?
And I took their spare rifle as a souvenir while I was at it!
I did that. I did it with my bare fucking hands. Take a good long look at that display. Bask in its glory. I jumped up, pulled that plane down from the sky, and suplexed it into the fucking ground, that's what happened!
Thought this would be some Colonel Chock Doris bullshit? Well welcome to the future, bitch. That bastard didn't stand a chance after I sheathed him over a Mk-83 and used that thing as a baseball bat against an incoming rocket artillery missile. Guess whose charred remains got scattered all over a seven-mile radius? Chock Doris's remains, dumbass. Guess who didn't get pulverized from the ensuing explosions? Me.
You heard me right, you self-righteous sack of shit.
Is there a breeze coming through right now?
I don't give half a supersonic flying fuck about your shitty dollar-store-grade munitions. I'll soak up those bullets like a lovely sun tan. Bullet wounds? Blunt-force trauma? Fuck no. You'd be giving me a good hairdo at worst. I'll walk outta your battlefield wearing all those wasted bullets as a necklace. Oh, what? You thought I'd be making some sort of schoolgirl bead-bracelet crap with those bullets? Fuck you! I'll crush those bullets together in my bare hands and make a goddamn pendant out of em! I'm not scared of your cowshit flingers and handheld baby-wailing noisemakers.
Let me show you what REAL firepower looks like.
These fools were french-kissing the dirt before they could even lift their dainty lady fingers at me.
You think you're ready for what I've got to bear? I'll give you a dissertation on every war in human history with the back of my fucking hand. If you don't get anything else from all of this, take this back to your dingy apartment with you: no one fucks with me. NO ONE. Not even my allies. See these festering corpses here? Case in fucking point. I put these sons-of-bitches into the fucking ground with my pinky toe alone. How did they fuck with me so badly, you might be asking yourself? Let's just say it's not a good idea to test my patience.
You wouldn't believe me if I gave you the context for this, so don't bother asking for it.
Speaking of patience, you see those jets behind me? Those puny Allied Faction ice cream trucks with ailerons on top? I made those cheeky bomb-slinging motherfuckers bite the dirt. See that rocket launcher in my hands? That's not a MANPADS launcher--no, that's an unguided HEAT warhead launcher. UN-FUCKING-GUIDED. I brought those planes down with that thing alone. That's right, dumbass--I'm no muscle-brained jackass; I got one wrinkly-ass brain in between my ears. That right there is the product of target leading done right. I camped for seven fucking hours in a row in a dead hedge, sniping those bastards outta the sky as they came by. No missed shots, no early warnings, no signs of something going on until it's all too late--just pure fucking skill. Now just imagine what I could do to you up close.
You scared to death just yet? Has Jeff made you shit your undersized panties already? No? Well, sucks to be you, then. You're either a new degree of fucking braindead or just don't know your own limits. Still not convinced? I'll shove enough common sense down your throat to bloat your goddamn bowels. Don't believe me? Think I'm just another shitty meme? Well why don't you go check outside your window then.