Was scouting around an highly infested city with an M4A1 and my trusty makeshift crowbar, needed an acetylene torch and some advanced books to make my recharging station (solar panel array) and a vehicle forging rig. Luckily, I found a street with two
bookstores next to each other, a locked and loaded tank
with an M2 Browning mounted on it. Proceeded to open the garage shutters and - surprise, surprise - a zedfest just outside. Turned Five Finger Death Punch on foobar and said to myself: " Let's smash those fuckers."
I started to move the counters away from the windows so I could fight them without movement penalty and guess what happens next.
Goddamned counter was shock full of heavyweight, high volume stuff. So much that it lagged me to the point for the fucking horde to surround and partly tear my muse to pieces.
Incredibly enough, with 120 pain and 75 speed and only half-a-bar of torso health and varying damage across the rest of my body, I managed to survive the onslaught
before my guy finally finished moving the damned counter. Ran as much as I could taking some aspirins and coffeine pills towards the tank where it tore those son of a bitches a new asshole, one by one.
Satisfied that my quest was not been fruitless, I turned back. However, a zombie necromancer I had slain just three hours ago
had risen again. "Hell, why not let the TANK SAVIOR kill him?"Then the tank shot it's main gun.
And I was next to the necromancer.