Imagine being a military soldier, after a recent strike you've retreated to your bunker with only four other survivors - praying that the enemy forces won't find you and show mercy...

Then you see it, a light shines from the opening... They're here...

Struck by the fact that you have nowhere else to run you lay your weapons down and surrender, begging for you and your colleagues lives to be spared...

But they don't trust you, two other men gun down your fellow troops right before your eyes...

Then, the strike team's leader pulls out a desert eagle with the barrel planted directly on your sweat-covered forehead, demanding to know the location of your commanders...

With a quivering breath, you reveal the location in hopes that doing so will spare you so that you might see your family again...

You look up with pleading eyes only to notice the small illustrations on the desert eagle...

Thousands of cartoon females litter the weapon, with faces conveying an emotion of intense sexual pleasure...

And then... He pulls the trigger...

And you're left only to be known by your team as the man who was executed by a weeb...