I remember a legend.
Back in the olden days, when Darkest Hour was played
you'd be shot in the head, four houndred meters away.
A glimpse of the soldier was to be catched,
as he crouch-shot your head, unable to be snatched.
You'd fear his presence, but admire his skill,
because there where no player alike, that he couldnt kill.
Mikael, where are you? My dear Finnish friend.
We stopped hearing from you, where'd you go in the end?
Your old War-Pig, Dahlen.