It would be once more, I was all alone.
My friends are dead, from being on the phone.
Me against three, it seems to be.
I do not fear, for I am who they fear.

One would approach me from my east.
He will be a simple kill to say the least.
In moments he would hit the grond.
For I put him in a distant land.

The second would approach from my west.
His stench could kill a moose, it seems.
Bullets would fly by my head in numbers.
With one shot I would lay him to rest.

The third would approach from my south.
He was sneaky, approaching up behind me.
One shot into my arm, I thought I was dead.
I raised my gun, and he was at my feet.