Left 4 Dead, Dead Air Pistol-only Expert run. We weren't doing to well on the construction site level, and about the time we reached the barricade we were half-dead with no medkits. So I say "Screw it." I shoot the gass cans near the barricade, and stand at the front of the group while the hoard rushes in. And instead of just shooting, I dive head-first into the hoard, meleeing and screaming into the mic:
"I AM SIR BARTHOLOMEW STILTON! I AM SIR BARTHOLOMEW STILTON! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?"
And with that, I defeated the hoard singlehandedly with minimal damage. Singlehandedly because everyone else was too awestruck/busy laughing their asses off to help.
So we keep going as planned, until a tank arrives. the general sentiment around the party was "Great, we're screwed."
I walk up to the front of the group, and ask the tank, "Do you know who I am?"
The tank charges. I dodge to the side and start to melee it, screaming:
"I AM SIR BARTHOLOMEW STILTON! I AM SIR BARTHOLOMEW STILTON! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?"
"I! AM! SIR! BARTHOLOMEW! STILTOOOON!"
And with the help of two of my friends (one died), we killed the tank. We killed it with two pistols and a pair of fists.
And so we keep going, and we're almost to the safe house. All of the sudden, we hear crying. I spot the witch some ways away.
"Witch!" Everyone murmurs. "Lights off!"
I turned my light off.
Then I turned it back on.
"Do you know who I am?"
The witch stands and starts to growl at me.
"I AM SIR BARTHOLOME-OH SHIT!"
And that marked the death of Sir Bartholomew Stilton.
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Also, my hunter-esque ways in any real-life gunplay sport (paintball, airsoft, laser tag, etc.). My old nickname wasn't Panther for no reason.
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Also, extended periods of solitude in the woods, where I can sit and think. I get a renewed perspective on things every time I do that.