The battle shifted as more "sets" joined the fray. From the shadows of the barn emerged the , their black gear blending into the twilight. They moved with precision, planting Carrocket Launchers like they were seeding a prize-winning garden.
The harvest was coming in, but on this farm, nobody was picking corn. Old Man Frank adjusted his overalls, gripping a shovel that had seen better days. Across the field, a group of high-level rivals appeared, and they weren’t wearing flannel. Shotgun Farmers po setovima
"Nice sets," Frank grunted, ducking behind a hay bale. A missed shot from the rockstars hit the dirt beside him. Seconds later, a Sniperagus Rifle sprouted from the soil. Frank grabbed the vegetable-weapon, its stalks still wet with dew. The battle shifted as more "sets" joined the fray