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Maurice, Maurice... Maurice of mine.
I know I should not cybergrind as so, but mother of me, I do. Your barraged projectiles that sprayed and prayed from your solid stone form... the style of your +friendly fire that nourish'd me and healed me in its reversal, when radiant mindflayers and insurrectionists were all I witnessed...

Maurice, Maurice... Maurice of mine,
I know I know you hate me so, and Maurice of mine, I do too. But I would not live, not win, not grind, were it not for you in my cyberspace simulated zone... Your tortured love brought me to this grind, that I could take the lives of many, and see higher waves once more.

Maurice, Maurice... Maurice of mine,
I know your thoughts left you long ago, and Maurice of mine, I will never truly know. But I hope it redeems my life even a slight, when I cried... and blasted off that final night.