Crimson liquid dripped off the blade as Tyla Green pulled her sword out of her opponent's chest. A disgusting eruption of several, unmentionable bodily fluids seemed to follow. Tyla had a disgusted look on her face. 'Why did killing have to be so darn messy' she thought to herself. She walked along piles amongst piles of bloodied carcasses. She stepped on what she thought was a rotten skull. "Eww" she exclaimed. She lifted up her hob-nailed stilettos out of the skull and much to her dismay they were covered in what looked like a cross between pus and blood. She threw up a little inside her mouth. This was too much for her to handle. I mean, Tyla was a tough girl. She never cried when her favourite skirt got stained or when she cracked a nail but this was too far.

She lifted up a handheld intercom which –of course- was covered with some unknown substance. She called into her base but there was no reply. "I knew Verizon was crap" she said to herself. She kept walking through the battlefield, stepping on more rotting corpses as she went. She really needed to get home.