yes, they certainly 'walked through life' and were, like, really 'grounded' an' stuff, and, like, you know, shit an' all - but then the Avengeing Angels of Death dropped by, Matt and his buddies, bearing gifts of 'daisy-cutters' and other cutely-named machines designed to butcher humans cheaply en-masse.
And about 10,000 of these nice, pleasant people just kinda somehow inexplicably quit breathing, see, after their lungs had been pulled inside-out and their bowels rent asunder.
But apart from these understandable slip-ups there were also traumatic, tragic consequences for our Gameboy Heroes - several had terrifying nightmares of chilly water-bottles and quite a few suffered spontaneous sphincter dysfunction and dirtied togs when the saw an undead Arabite clutching a short pole. Luckily, an immediate precision airstrike by the LuftWaffe eliminated this threat scenario, plus the whole population of the same village.
Now Private Wank-o-Matt and his brave chums are back at base, busily licking their damaged egos, having their ringpieces tightened with intensive electro-shock-therapy and gearing up for the next war against evil meat, and grammar, in whichever lair they may hide.
Tomorrow will be a new day, so full, of Death.