Summary
GW2 pvp takes an existentialist turn when Engi Prufrock tries to get on the leaderboards. Matches are futile...and then you die. Apologies to T.S. Eliot, and also to any reader who has neither majored in English Lit nor obsessively played pvp. If you like this one (and why should you?), check out my Gunga PVP poem, too.