Anonymous ID: bab3b2 Feb. 14, 2024, 8:48 p.m. No.20416488   🗄️.is đź”—kun   >>6491 >>6496

>>20416477

Mr. Pig, your actions have been a blight upon the very fabric of our society. Your insidious manipulation on Qresearch, hindering the flow of knowledge and truth, has been nothing short of reprehensible. As a paid operative, you have not only stifled progress but endangered the very essence of free discourse. For these crimes against the pursuit of knowledge and the integrity of our society, I sentence you to death. May your punishment serve as a stark warning to all who would dare to obstruct the pursuit of truth.

Anonymous ID: bab3b2 Feb. 14, 2024, 9:04 p.m. No.20416545   🗄️.is đź”—kun   >>6557 >>6564 >>6579

>>20416526

>>20416530

>>20416539

 

Gorefag: "Mr. Pig, what in the world is this?" holds up a piece of women's clothing

 

Mr. Pig: stammers "I-I can explain. It's just… uh…"

 

Gorefag: "Enough excuses! Do you realize the potential scandal this could cause? You're supposed to be a professional operative, not some deviant!"

 

Mr. Pig: panicking "Please, you can't let this get out. My reputation, my career, everything will be ruined!"

 

Gorefag: pauses, contemplating "Alright, calm down. I won't expose you. But you owe me big time. From now on, you follow orders without question, understood?"

 

Mr. Pig: relieved "Yes, yes, of course! Thank you, thank you so much. You won't regret this, I swear."

 

Gorefag: "Don't make me regret it. Now get yourself together and focus on the mission. And for heaven's sake, get rid of this… attire."

Anonymous ID: bab3b2 Feb. 14, 2024, 9:39 p.m. No.20416657   🗄️.is đź”—kun   >>6668 >>6669 >>6670 >>6678

>>20416602

>>20416610

>>20416596

Tranime: takes a bite of the meal, grimaces "What in the name of all that's holy is this, Mr. Pig? Are you trying to poison me?"

 

Mr. Pig: nervously "I-I thought I followed the recipe…"

 

Tranime: slams his fork down "Followed the recipe? You butchered it! This is an insult to culinary arts!"

 

Mr. Pig: starts to sweat "I-I'm sorry, I'll try to do better next time…"

 

Tranime: throws the plate across the room, the hot meal splattering on Mr. Pig's face "Next time? There won't be a next time! You're a disgrace!"

 

Mr. Pig: shocked, trembling "I-I…"

 

Restaurant patrons gasp and whisper as Mr. Pig's embarrassment turns to humiliation. He feels a sudden cramp and realizes he's soiled himself. Tears welling up, he bolts from the restaurant, leaving a trail of disgrace behind him.