My army consists of a few billion maggots that make people vomit on sight. Also, they are in the food.
My army consists of 100 people with cans of bug and order be gone. Killing the maggots and leaving a lemony fesh scent
my army consists of Bruce Willis. Nuff said AVCORTEZ- I'm impressed that you knew who killed Jormungandr but he did die of from the serpents venom.
My army consists of eragon and his dragon and since his books were rip offs of both those books I got it all.
My army is a group of mad scientists that create a draught causing a shortage of fruit. Seem how Ghandi was a fruitarian, his followers take this as a bad omen and leave. Or starve.
My army is a pack of Shifters, and eternal winter comes to the land, freezing your scientists before they are devoured.
My army consists of a life sized Edward poster with a trap door in front of it. Your Twilight fans can't foam their way out of a deathtrap.
My army consists of a board of movie reviewers, who condemn the Twilight saga and all films and sequals that relate to it. The poster becomes worthless and is soon used as fuel for a fire.
My army is the Wyrkae, creatures that look half-bat half-dragon, and they bite your movie reviewers and turn them into Wyrkae and add them to their numbers.
My army consists of a thousand droidekas, the shield bearing version. Your paltry force of 100 Jedi Masters is cut down, turning their awesome fighting stances into awkward death poses.
My army is Little Annie Skywalker, flying a nubian fighter into the cargo bay of a droid control ship, which conveniently has it's generators located, you guessed it, in the cargo bay. Your droid army collapses awkwardly...
My army is one dickhead calling you space cadets and making you all feel worthless for the repeated Starwars references. Thus disheartened, you all put your plastic light sabers back into their protective boxes and cry yourselves to sleep.
My army consists of all the fat and sweaty nerds in the world who like to dress in Starwars themed costumes. They're fresh out of a week long comic book convention during which they not only haven't showered, but they haven't changed out of the suits either. Your dickhead is overwhelmed by the smell of sweat and unwashed underwear, fleeing the scene while puking in disgust. A depressingly large amount of plastic lightsabers is bought to celebrate!
^ lol omg My army consists of hundreds of beautiful women in princess Leia cosplay. All your nerds become paralyzed by thoughts of losing their virginity.
My nerd army is in tatters. Most have fled back to their parents' basements and are trying to calm themselves by imbibing unhealthy amounts of Mountain Dew and snorting Cheeto dust. But alas, there are some which are simply too lame to understand the concept of losing one's virginity. They are the fat pricks dressed as Jabba the Hutt and they're trying to clasp your Leia impersonators in chains. Out of nowhere materializes a mighty host of douchebag security guards which promptly kicks their asses. They then proceed to neg your cosplayers. All of the Leias swoon and go out for drinks with the guards. They wake up the next morning hung over, ashamed of their low self-esteem and poor taste in sexual partners. Your army is no more.
My army is the legion of the Internet, each battalion six hundred trolls strong. At their head rides the hero, Neil Degrasse Tyson, carrying the legendary sword Division of Zero. Our Anonymous spies have weakened you within, while our mighty Memes tear at your very souls. We send the guys playing vuvuzelas out first, so that you waste all your arrows before we even get there.
