The teammate who shot you in the back of the head three times when there was no one else around wants to remind you, again, that you’re just playing a game.

“Dude,” he says while chewing on crunchy cereal that kills your eardrums, “stop being a whiny little bitch. It’s just a game. Get over yourself.” Before you can explain to him that he’s ruining your fun by disappearing for twenty minutes at a time, he is already gone – probably in the other room taking a massive hit off a gravity bong or something.

Efforts to have him booted from the game prove futile and illicit harsh responses from the opposing team.

“Why don’t you call the waaaahh-mbulance,” MackDaddy22 says before making a fart noise.

Boobsnass tosses his two cent in with series of vowels screamed at the top of his lungs. This is followed up by boisterous laughter, a racial epithet, more laughter, a few winky emoticons, and three-quarters of “Cotton Eyed Joe,” the tecno-remix version, while your team is decimated over and over again.

Though changing servers appears to yield beneficial results, they are only temporary. It’s like he’s seeking you out or something.