Sad little beings desperately holding onto an illusionary universe. They built Sand Castles of Woe, until out of nowhere an Undine arose from the abyss and washed them all away.
Plastic people with your plastic generals who would lose on an even playing field. But you perpetuated an interest in and need for weapons, that is a Pandora's Box of leveling drift. Because of your squashing of the creative mind to maintain control, you have hobbled yourself even further. This means you will fall behind even faster.
A 9:45 PM helicopter over a residential neighborhood so low you could hit it with a long bow. Right over my house. Whoever you were, you are heading for a noise pollution and harassment complaint from citizens. May make that a legal complaint, actually.
It's already too late. You did not check your momentum in time and the inertia of your actions will not come to a halt in time. I could disappear from this "universe" and you would fare even worse in the end. But if you wish to play hard ball... I promise I'm not even out of the Bull Pen yet. And I'm not even the star pitcher :)
Next you get to meet the Destroyer of Destroyers. HE who's dance ends all of this. I wouldn't want to be you. In fact I wouldn't even want to be me. :(
You made a lot of money selling weapons, America. You did not however generate a lot of friends doing so. You were focused on Me First, My Empire First, My puppet regimes 1st. Your unhappiness 1st. That way we perpetuate the need for Me, My Empire and my puppet regimes.