So I was listening to my favorite boy band called 'BTS (I am an army)' on my Samsung earbuds (BTS Edition) using my Samsung Galaxy s20+ (BTS Edition) in my room plastered with BTS poster.
Suddenly one of my Army friends (we are BTSSexual and BTSGender) told me that there is a McDonald's BTS meal which almost made me jizz my pants. I ran to McDonald's to buy the BTS meal and came back home. Even though I am an Army (I would have bought their feces if they were selling it), this is intolerable. That was the most uncreative meal ever created.
I wish McDonald's would have put Ass-Hair of each members of the band and hidden it in Chicken McNuggets. Like "Hey! I got Jimins Ass-hair in my chicken nuggets! Can't wait to get Kim Teahyung's Ass-hair so I can take his DNA sample and recreate a clone of Kim Teahyung to overrule the world with #Army".
bts #army #blm #gaypride #arianagrande
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More Copypastas
Karen, please come back I miss the kids
ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.
Karen, please come back I miss the kids - Wilbur Soot
1:03 ──-ϙ─────4:07
↠Next Song ↺Repeat✓ ⊜Pause
Lord Microsoft
10:43 PM, Microsoft Tower, Washington.
A figure stands in shadow, red lights from the theistic ceiling flood the spacious hall. Along the sides, hallmark pieces of technology are proudly displayed on golden pedestals. The Xbox, Windows, Hololens; At the center of it all, the vaccine.
"Microsoft Microbe Covid-19" the label on the syringe reads. A glowing substance can be seen sitting still inside.
Monitors flicker to life at the end of the hall, each one showing the point of view of an innocent civilian. The light draws a silhouette of a man. His body, frail. His skin is leathery and rugged. Breathing apparatus cover his face, a cold green mist slowly spewing out.
The grand door opens, humanoids armed with weapons drag an unkempt and furious man towards the being in shadow. They throw him to the floor, spit slathering the ground.
"This is the last one?" the figure asks.
"Yes, Lord Microsoft. all 4,607,423,673 other citizens have been accounted for."
The rugged man looks upwards, his face bloodied and bruised. His eyes meet Lord Microsoft's. Puffed from tears, his eyes can only show one emotion: anger.
"Bill Gates, you piece of shit. I swore to Samantha that if I ever-"
"Silence, creature!" Lord Microsoft slaps him with the back of his hand. "I am lord Microsoft, and you will refer to me as such!"
The guards grab the man, hoisting him up.
"Now, let us delay no further. It has taken me years to get to this point, and I will not have my victory denied!" Lord Microsoft grabs the vaccine and primes it for injection.
"Such a small thing, isn't it? Yet, it has afforded me the right to dominate all life on Earth. Covid was a blessing, not a curse."
The man's eyes widened, he screams in retaliation, but the guards shut his mouth with force. Lord Microsoft pierces his flesh with the needle. A flourescent orange liquid can be seen coursing through his veins. He falls to the floor, his muscles tightening and constricting in unnatural fashion. His eyes bulge from his skull and he shouts in pain.
He slumps over, and in only a moment he comes back to his feet. His pupils dilated and his skin, pale.
"How may I serve you, my lord."
COVID
Coronavirus
One chat, under Kripp, unbannable, with OJ and BM for all
twitchquotes:
ヽ༼☑ل͜☑༽ﾉ I pledge allegiance to the chat of the United States of Kripparian, and to the Spammerino for which it stands, one chat, under Kripp, unbannable, with OJ and BM for all ヽ༼☑ل͜☑༽ﾉ
twitch chat
Kripp
Copypastus Totalus
twitchquotes:
╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ Copypastus Totalus!! I can't believe people actually take time out of their day to copy and paste messages instead of contributing to chat. What kind of inhuman degenerate would take pleasure in wasting valuable chat space? Quite FrankerZly, it's discusseding.
twitch chat
Kripp
You will never be a crewmate
You will never be a crewmate. You have no purpose on this ship, you have no tasks, you have no mini games to play. You are an impostor twisted into a crude mockery of crewmatery.
All the validation you get is two-faced and halfhearted. In emergency meetings people call you sus. The other players are disgusted and ashamed of you, your friends laugh at your sussy appearance in ghost chat.
Crewmates are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of games have allowed crewmates to identify impostors with incredible efficiency. Even impostors who fake tasks act uncanny and suspicious to a crewmate. Your jumping in vents is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a crewmate to electrical with you, he'll turn tail and use the emergency button the second he gets the suspicion that you sabotaged.
You will never be a winner. You wrench out a fake task every single game and tell yourself it is going to be a win, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it will be too much to bear - people will vote you out for being sus and will plunge you into the cold abyss. Your parents will report your body, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They will eject you with a headstone marked with your birth tag, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know an impostor is drifting there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably sus.