One hyper-realistic morning, I was told by my hyper-realistic leader to search for hyper-realistic supplies. I accepted his hyper-realistic order and went to my hyper-realistic bunkroom to grab my hyper-realistic Glock. Once I got it, I exited my hyper-realistic faction's hyper-realistic base. Outside, I walked on the cracked hyper-realistic roads of the hyper-realistic remains of a once great hyper-realistic city. But, when I came across a hyper-realistic car being looted, I swore it was my hyper-realistic chance to shine.
I rushed towards him and tried to shoot his hyper-realistic head, but he heard me and so slammed his hyper-realistic fist against my hyper-realistic face. I could have produced a hyper-realistic scream to alert any nearby hyper-realistic allies, but I couldn't do anything. I was sent tumbling down as he grabbed his hyper-realistic shotgun and shot my hyper-realistic torso, ending my hyper-realistic life. Hyper-realistic lesson of the day. Do not go stupidly towards a cruel hyper-realistic killer.
Anyway, sounds interesting.
"Mom! Filter's being a ####### |