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It burns going down, but this is what I need, this mouthful of liquid courage. It sears my throat, heats my body and fuels my fury; this is what keeps me running towards the bullets, the shrapnel and all the cries calling for my blood.

I’ll admit this to ye though, this isn’t the most sensible thing to do, intoxicating myself right before life-or-death situations. But where be the sensibility in two groups of battle-crazed loons trying to blast each other to bits? When you’ve got some berserk maniac charging at ye, gnashing his teeth with flecks of foam about his muzzle, it’s not going to be sensibility that’ll keep ye from turning tail.

But don’t think I’ll falter when it comes to the fight. My legs may be unsteady and I am short one eye, but I’ll not disappoint. With a single eye, I still aim true. Fortified by drink, I still stand ready! Beware my bombs, blinking eyes plucked from demonic sockets. Beware my mines, spiked fruit ripe for a bitter harvest. I’ve brewed a special brand of brimstone and I have in me a hearty desire to share it. Over land and sea, I’ve come from afar to show the mettle of a Scottish son!

Send whatever forces you may; send a duo or a dozen. I’ll still laugh in your faces and call for a hundred more! Come for me if ye dare! I’ve glowing capsules aplenty to guide devils back to hell! I’ll shake the foundations of heaven and earth; I’ll tear asunder any and all in my path; I’ll bring down the very sky on all your heads! And if any should ask me my purpose for wreaking such havoc upon the land, I’ll say this.

I’m a bloody demoman! This is what we do!