![]() He picks up the larger portion of an almost intact head, and walks back to his cabin. Slowly raising his RPG, he aims, fires, and seconds later grins as the clueless herd of Octobrains transform into a shower of blood, tentacles and grey matter. ![]() After hours of walking around, he finally spots some game – a pack of Octobrains grazing in the distance. He’s packing all of the essentials – knife, tinderbox, binoculars, and of course his trusty rocket launcher. A buzzcut Duke Nukem in full hunting garb quietly stalks the autumn forests.
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