• (The Sniper)
    It all seems too quiet,you say,
    As you peer through your scope,
    Maybe the BLU team ragequitted-nay,
    That's not a very good hope.
    You check the scoreboard-that's weird,
    There is only one good played on the BLU team.
    The match has still lasted so long you think you've grown a beard,
    Victory just won't come! You want to scream,
    And your trigger finger's itchy as hell.
    You scowl and readjust your Sydney Sleeper,
    It's gonna be pretty boring,you can tell.
    Just then-a sound behind you,like a swish but deeper,
    But it registers too late,
    You close the scope,but that's the last action of this life;
    You try to turn around,but you can't avoid your fate,
    And into your back goes the knife.

    (The Demoman)
    It's time to make the charge,
    The bridge is just in front of you,
    You've got your Booties,your Eyelander,your Chargin' Targe,
    And a full amount of health,too.
    You're totally invincible,a pure offensive force,
    Those idiots better watch out.
    You're going to win for sure,of course,
    There isn't a single doubt.
    You breathe in and prepare to right-click,
    The title of MVP will be yours to grab,
    But behind you,suddenly,you hear a snick,
    Oh no.You've just gotten a backstab.

    (The Heavy)
    You're mowing through all those BLU babies,
    Killing them all with your trusty Brass Beast,
    "Aaaaaaargh!" They scream,and cry out "Assistance,please!"
    All in vain,as your minugun wreaks its bloody feast.
    You laugh and yell "RUN,COWARDS!" and outsmart them with bullets,
    But what's that? A stray grenade!
    It explodes,and ruptures your gullet;
    In pain,you cry out for aid!
    A medic comes rushing towards you,his medi-gun at the ready,
    Relieved,you turn back to the fray.
    Your hear the phrase "Right behind you!" from the medic,and you are comforted,
    Then to your great surprise,he stabs a knife into you without delay,
    Instead of healing ylu,the "medic" has made you very,very dead.

    (The Spy)
    You light a cigarette and begin to clean off your bloody knife,
    The bodies of the Australian redneck, the black cyclops,and the fat man
    Lay at your feet without a spark of life,
    Taking a puff of your cig,you smile-everything went according to plan.
    Those idiots never knew you were there until you ended their lives,
    No one ever saw you,your work was perfect,
    Your teammates will all be giving you grateful high-fives,
    As you cloak and turn invisible,all you say is "What did they expect?"