Pardon me Madam, but I was curious as to what you look like under those tasteful fabrics you are wearing. Perhaps you would do me the honor of removing them and photographing your perfect skin so I can gaze upon your beauty?
I used to be a real ad
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Hey I'm a really nice guy
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Hey I'm a really nice guy. I've been playing csgo for quite a while and I'm feeling like boosting some girl gamers (preferably ones that look kinda good, I'd appreciate if you could send a picture before beginning.) and this because often when I talk to girls otherwise they don't take my csgo-skill in to consideration. Many girls through the years did friendzone me and I'm really tired of all douchebags taking the girls who deserve better.
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You guessed it right, I'm SUMMIT1G
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MY GRAGAS IS BAD MY CHO'GATH IS FREE YOU GUESSED IT RIGHT IM SUMMIT1G
MY GRAGAS IS BAD MY CHO'GATH IS FREE YOU GUESSED IT RIGHT IM SUMMIT1G
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Summt1g
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Jam a man of fortune xQc
Rice farmer in Polynesia
I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut
I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut. It was the greatest mistake of my life.
After years of perfecting my recipe, I made my way down to the local hut, fresh-baked pizza pie in hand. "Try this," I told the kid working the counter. He did, and he had to agree that it was better than anything Pizza Hut had to offer. Soon, the entire store, customers included, was feasting on my delicious pie. The manager walked over, grabbed a slice, and took a bite. I look at him, anticipation rising. This was the boss, the local fief lord of the Hut. His approval meant more to me than all the rest combined. He took a bite and nodded. "I'll be damned," he said, "you really did it. You out-pizza'd the Hut. Shame." Shame? What did he mean by tha- the manager pulled a gun out from behind his apron and shot the nearest customer in the head. "We have a Code JalapeΓ±o," he said into his wrist as he executed the remaining customers. "I repeat, we have a Code JalapeΓ±o." The ground was slick with blood. The kid working the counter choked out his dying breath as the manager turned to me. "You just had to do it motherfucker. You just had to out-pizza the Hut." He shoved the gun in my face. I was too scared to fight, too scared to run. The manager pulled the trigger.
A click. The gun was empty. I threw a chair at the manager and scrambled out of the Pizza Hut, not even bothering to see if my missile hit its mark. I was closely pursued by the manager, who had gotten his hands on a deadly sharp pizza cutter. I suspected in his hands it would cut more than pizza. Somehow, I was able to get into my car and speed off, the manager cursing my existence as I left him behind. I took a deep breath. The manager was clearly psychotic. Yes, that was it, just a crazy man with a gun. It had to be. My phone rang. Sister. I picked it. "They're dead, she sobbed. They're all dead. M-mom, dad, Chris, Bill. Dead. They killed them all." I could barely understand her, so great were her sobs. "What do you mean? Where are you?" I asked urgently. "How is this possi-" a single gunshot sounded through my phone's speakers. Silence. Then, I heard a man's voice. "No one out-pizzas the Hut." He hung up. I drove down the empty county road, mind blank. I had nothing. They killed my family. I was alone.
At that moment I knew what I had to do. They took everything from me. Well then, I would take everything from them. Pizza Hut was so terrified of being out-pizza'd, they forgot there's one thing worse than a man with a recipe: A man with nothing to lose. I'll give them a limited time offer they won't be able to refuse: two bullets for the price of one.
With a free side order of pain.