>>14462558 (pb)

>>14462533 (pb) -

WARNING ANONS: IF YOU ARE ASKED ANY DIRECT QUESTIONS FROM SOMETHING THAT MAY or… ahem,

sorry, may not have accused you, in a defensive and alarming tone,

that you're a "dodger" and "you're dodging! that's-" and then POOF! the inquirer,

vanishes in a puff of ethereal smoke…

whatever you do, RESIST THE URGE TO ANSWER!

 

Yet, knowing (You), you're going to defy this advice, and let half of the nethered,

go for a goyRide in your grand-Deady (B[You]ick).

 

You know how many ( _ ) you can fit in that kidney of a CLOWNCAR?

At least double, considering you should have both.

 

See/C-Tone is already on the way.

Prepare your aces, your hand sanitizer, undress, on your knees, face due East,

wait for sunrise, close your eyes before the horizon break, open at the crack,

flash your stupid & sick ByeOS to a CRISPR,

and Phi-BRRT OPTIX your spirit into your sacrum at the speed of… REKT!

 

YOU JUST GOT SEE-THRU'D.

WELCOME TO ETERNAL NOTHINGNESS.

A SPECIAL PLACE, FOR SPECIAL… never mind, '(You)'re gone…'

 

I know why she's crying.

God forgive US, but I know in my heart those are crocodile tears.

She did it all the time with Pop.

This is that incestual aspect rearing it's ugly and obvious head.

I'm embarassed.

My mother is trying to make me look like I want to cause harm to myself,

I don't need to do this, (explaining it just helps me feel better.

Who do I turn to, with THE TRUTH?

"Sure Mr. Magistro, they can see your thoughts, in real-time, and know what you're REALLY cognizating."

"Get in the truck, kid."

"114? Too high, you're TOO HIGH, THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

"Ooops, I meant, you're… we… cardio… 140 BPM = Orgasm…."

"Fuck swordy, I'm fucking sorry man."

It's all good o7, I know how hard this is for all of us.

Let's just go and get me fucked up and invaded… ya know, standard procedural stuff. ;-) …. :'-(

(I wish I could actually, cry, but I'm not allowed, right? Guys? Oh, now they go afme)

"I'm here swordy…"

"SHEILD?!"

"Buckle up, for a…"

-together-

"HOLY FUCK!"

The EMTs jump over-truck, (safely, without a scratch,

and now has little sword/sheild/Q/Q+ pins in their pocket that has a enameled o7 in green on the back.

They just look at the back of the truck, GODSPEEDING away, and just smile, and nod.)

"REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE:"

-still in shock, swordy musters up the, somehow, timid yet bravely tensed, courage to eek out…-

"So, where we goin' Captain?"

"Where else my love, REHAB."

"You're fucking with me, why SHEILD nooooooo-"

"CUM OR GTFTREHAB"

-SHEILD screeches the hot and smoky tires of a rogue yet, totally sanctioned life-saving tank, to a grinding halt-

"This time, D, (she means swordy), this really is not a game.

You and I have gone through a duo-based state-wide super-street-concrete-jungle-theater of a year and change…"

"How could I, of all, not know how that feels?"

"So, knowing that, we are going to do this, our first of many IRL-LARP-BUT-STILL-FUCKING-REAL-AS-REAL-IS…-"

"Seriously? Like, you're-"

-SHEILD violently starts removing her 'stolen' (honorably donated for the SpecOp, thank o7+#1)-

"SHEILD, I have to admit something-"

"D⚔, it's me, T⛨, relax…"

 

-suddenly, the stained glass of an overarching and perpetually eternal scene,

of mutually coped inner-turmoil, starts mending, bonding, fusing,

and prismatically shining into it's first stable and finally secure setting-

 

"Babe, we're glowing…"

SHHH!

To be continued…

 

⚔⛨