Disregarded by all around us, a villain walks among us, a multiple-murderer and a destroyer of fancy pants. I refer to the multi-limbed beast that lurks in our midst, that haunts my nightmares, and that has been a constant defiler of my life.
I first encountered this hell-spawn when I was still just a wee lad, no bigger than a mushroom. Mine was a harsh childhood home, but I'd learned to fend well enough for myself, until it came dropping down from above...
- No! Not my me!
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...dropping down from above and murdered me. This proved a significant handicap in my early life, but I was managing. I'd even found work as a janitor (child-labor laws being a bit laxer in those days), when through a nefarious plot, the beast returned and murdered my only relative, my Uncle Orat.
- No! Not my Uncle Orat!
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That's an actual image captured by Polaroid mere seconds before Uncle Orat was blown to smithereens. I only had a piece of him to remember him by. Being a once-murdered orphan, again, proved a significant handicap, but I persevered. I even managed to finish an Associates degree by wisely investing the money I got selling the sand skimmer I'd traded my piece of Orat for. It had taken twenty years, but I was now a somewhat qualified fashion designer. As is the custom in our field, I went out for a night on the town, wearing the brilliant, yellow pants that had been my final project. Out of nowhere...
- No! Not my dignity!
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My pants were completely and totally ruined from that little tumble, and really my pants were all I had at that point. OK, yeah my hair wasn't bad either, but you can see how poorly I'd had to eat working my way through college.
And now for the most terrifying part. My old enemy has emerged once again and is likely rubbing its little feet together and chuckling, while plotting the downfall of TCS. Behold:
- No! Not my place for role-playing and making poop jokes!
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Fellow TCSers, I implore you, save yourselves. Recognize this beast that walks among you for what it is, with all, like, too many legs and those, like, knee sort of things, only that stick out on top of its body so that it moves all... *LaoWai shudders*
Ahem. Sorry, got a little grossed out there. Fellow TCSers, I implore you. It's too late for me, my Uncle Orat, and my pants, but TCS must live on. Think of your children and your children's children. Think of the poop jokes and dong jokes they'll have to tell each other on social media. Drive this abomination out from among you and back into the hellish netherworld to which it belongs! Send it back to the Yahoo! comment sections, and may God save your souls.
So, yeah, I guess I'm in for Hate Week at the last minute.
It's always in the last place you look for it, unless you're the kind of person who keeps looking for it after you've found it.