Rasta's QuakeWorld Circus

In QuakeWorld's vibrant, pixelated space,
Laughter and rockets burst in a joyful pace.
Hail Selassie, King of Kings, a legendary name,
While Igggy struggles, his aim in endless shame.

He chases Rasta's glory, lagging behind, it's true,
His shots off-target, a puzzle for me and you.
LG attempts, mere splashes of hope in the air,
Rasta's precision leaves him gasping, beyond repair.

Oh Dirtbox, from the land down under, full of hot air,
Rasta's arrival leaves him in despair, without a care.
Statistics don't lie, nor do hips, it's plain to see,
Obey the king, and let your spamming be.

No more grenades, no dm4 on display,
Just whispers of "Mercy" at end of day.
I recall the fierce match, Kattenbak vs Rasta's might,
He hid not like a cat, but a rat in frightful night.

"Cunt" may be your nickname, a flair, a claim to fame,
But Rasta's presence makes you vanish, without a game.
Like a telefrag in shadows, swift and unseen,
Leaving Igggy to spawn camp, his courage unclean.

Igggy's strategy? Camping and blaming with all his might,
Lagg, his constant excuse, a weary, old sight.
They dream of dethroning the king, but each attempt in vain,
Ignored, they stand, as Rasta reigns, his glory unstrained.

Aerowalker rises, a new star to cheer and adore,
While Igggy trips on fear, his best, and perhaps last, score.
"Rocket jump?" he tries, but lands with a sorry sound,
As Rasta's nades rain down, victory all around.

In QuakeWorld's realm, where rockets soar with grace,
Lives Ven, the heart of Dirtbox, in a digital, vibrant space.
A beacon of delight, with wokeness as a guiding light,
Gay rights as a powerful tactic, shining so bright.

With every frag, Dirtbox and Ven dance, a colorful spin,
Dodging grenades with ease, their bond and joy within.
"Equality's key!" Ven exclaims, with joy unconfined,
As they rocket jump high, a beautiful, inclusive find.

Rumors spread of the King's return, a day of reckoning near,
Poor Igggy will learn, through laughter and joyful tear.
QuakeWorld's circus brings delight, a frag-fest for all to see,
A marquee of fun, where humor and joy set everyone free.

All jokes aside, in this madness, I find my peaceful nest,
A thrill of the fight, a laughter that forever rests.
To fragging, laughing, and delight, until our joyful end,
In Rasta's wild, inclusive circus, may joy be every player's friend.