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They rush forward to try and destroy me, yet I cut them down. The horses and men charge to try and flank me, yet I mow them down. I am fed belts of bullets which I spit out at speed. My chatter installs fear into the enemy I am a new type of weapon that has changed warfare forever.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
The Mettalic Chatter of Death
They rush forward to try and destroy me, yet I cut them down. The horses and men charge to try and flank me, yet I mow them down. I am fed belts of bullets which I spit out at speed. My chatter installs fear into the enemy I am a new type of weapon that has changed warfare forever.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
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