twitchquotes:Jake has huge RipTires, he is one of the best players in OWL, when Jake isn't beating up people in Overwatch, he's beating people in real life so you better think before you say J K E. Peace out.
Jake has huge RipTires, he is one of the best players in OWL, when Jake isn't beating up people in Overwatch, he's beating people in real life so you better think before you say J LUL K E. Peace out.
Infinite Cum Part 3
Your release had increased so much that they could no longer contain you. Your cum has consumed the entirety of the cosmos. Humanity is without a shred of doubt, gone.
You are alone in the universe.
If there were aliens, they are dead now.
It’s over.
In despair, you mourn the death of the scientists, of humanity, of everyone. You realize you'll never hear her sweet and calming voice, see her proud body.
Your sad. Your terrified. Chronicles pass. The last stars in the universe eclipse. You silently watch as the last atoms break into protons, into quarks, into mere beams of weak energy that disperse along the vertical ropes. But the ropes no longer play their docile music. They have gonne silent.
You watch, helplessly, as the Last mozon is engulfed into the ever expanding plane of Cum. Your own creation destroys the very own universe, defying the own plan of existence.
You are alone.
You scream, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You cry, but nothing descends from your eyes. Do you even have eyes? All you can see is the torrid Instotucional white across the whole of the Universe. Entire Gans eclipse before your eyes, but then you realize the horror: The Cum turned against you.
With nothing more to consume, your sons turned against their father, and begin to consume you. You tremble. There's nothing to do. The huge weight impacts you like if whole planets fell onto your shoulders. Your alone. In your last moments, a odd sentiment of peace invades you for the first time since the early days of the universe. It's finally gonna end. You think about all the people that you've met during your stay in this universe. In the end, you think about the researcher. About her arms. Her breasts. You feel... good. For the first time in many hipereons. You jack off it.
It's so.... good, you come at the right time, freeing the constrained cum from your menber. You open your eyes, and behold the bathroom door.
You are Ok. You remember everything. It's all over.
You exit the bathroom after jacking off again, going back to your old life.
The cum stops.
Your release had increased so much that they could no longer contain you. Your cum has consumed the entirety of the cosmos. Humanity is without a shred of doubt, gone.
You are alone in the universe.
If there were aliens, they are dead now.
It’s over.
In despair, you mourn the death of the scientists, of humanity, of everyone. You realize you'll never hear her sweet and calming voice, see her proud body.
Your sad. Your terrified. Chronicles pass. The last stars in the universe eclipse. You silently watch as the last atoms break into protons, into quarks, into mere beams of weak energy that disperse along the vertical ropes. But the ropes no longer play their docile music. They have gonne silent.
You watch, helplessly, as the Last mozon is engulfed into the ever expanding plane of Cum. Your own creation destroys the very own universe, defying the own plan of existence.
You are alone.
You scream, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You cry, but nothing descends from your eyes. Do you even have eyes? All you can see is the torrid Instotucional white across the whole of the Universe. Entire Gans eclipse before your eyes, but then you realize the horror: The Cum turned against you.
With nothing more to consume, your sons turned against their father, and begin to consume you. You tremble. There's nothing to do. The huge weight impacts you like if whole planets fell onto your shoulders. Your alone. In your last moments, a odd sentiment of peace invades you for the first time since the early days of the universe. It's finally gonna end. You think about all the people that you've met during your stay in this universe. In the end, you think about the researcher. About her arms. Her breasts. You feel... good. For the first time in many hipereons. You jack off it.
It's so.... good, you come at the right time, freeing the constrained cum from your menber. You open your eyes, and behold the bathroom door.
You are Ok. You remember everything. It's all over.
You exit the bathroom after jacking off again, going back to your old life.
The cum stops.
Competitive Super Smash Bros Melee has reached its zenith
twitchquotes:The year is 20XX. Competitive Super Smash Bros Melee has reached its zenith. No longer are matches decided through complex inputs and tactics. It began when some questioned the idea of matchups against characters. The community realized that gameplay no longer mattered, and only the character. Tournaments became complex games of rock-paper-scissors, and eventually another epiphany was had. Why bother with deciding afterwards and wasting time when the match could be decided before it began? Thus, referees decided who won and who lost automatically using a combination of facial recognition AI, mandatory reflex tests, and standardized quizzes and tests on military tactics and stratagem. With time, tests weren't even needed. Judges became so acute at deciding who won and who lost that tournaments happened in seconds, and results uploaded in less. The final destination was reached. Babies were bred and engineered to become the most desirable "players", if one could call it that. Soon, humanity ceased to think, and became mindless slaves to the autonomous ones and zeroes that decided their worth, ironically becoming the machines they once played with.
The year is 20XX. Competitive Super Smash Bros Melee has reached its zenith. No longer are matches decided through complex inputs and tactics. It began when some questioned the idea of matchups against characters. The community realized that gameplay no longer mattered, and only the character. Tournaments became complex games of rock-paper-scissors, and eventually another epiphany was had. Why bother with deciding afterwards and wasting time when the match could be decided before it began? Thus, referees decided who won and who lost automatically using a combination of facial recognition AI, mandatory reflex tests, and standardized quizzes and tests on military tactics and stratagem. With time, tests weren't even needed. Judges became so acute at deciding who won and who lost that tournaments happened in seconds, and results uploaded in less. The final destination was reached. Babies were bred and engineered to become the most desirable "players", if one could call it that. Soon, humanity ceased to think, and became mindless slaves to the autonomous ones and zeroes that decided their worth, ironically becoming the machines they once played with.
I'M PIICCKKLEE RIIICKK
twitchquotes:🥒 IM PIIICKLE 🥒 RIIIIIICK!!! 😂 👌 💯 🥒 IM PIIICKLE 🥒 RIIIIIICK!!! 😂 👌 💯 🥒 IM PIIICKLE 🥒 RIIIIIICK!!! 😂 👌 💯
🥒 IM PIIICKLE 🥒 RIIIIIICK!!! 😂 👌 💯 🥒 IM PIIICKLE 🥒 RIIIIIICK!!! 😂 👌 💯 🥒 IM PIIICKLE 🥒 RIIIIIICK!!! 😂 👌 💯
Hey, kripp! ¿Qué pasa, hombre?
twitchquotes:Hey, kripp! ¿Qué pasa, hombre? Es Jeff de la clase de Historia del último semestre. No sabía que eras una especie de celebridad famosa hahahaha. Batirme, hombre. Por cierto, ¿alguna vez te uniste a Brian? Él era un niño de T H I C C. XD Eres un perro así. Es genial verte de nuevo. ¡Golpéame en algún momento!
Hey, kripp! ¿Qué pasa, hombre? Es Jeff de la clase de Historia del último semestre. No sabía que eras una especie de celebridad famosa hahahaha. Batirme, hombre. Por cierto, ¿alguna vez te uniste a Brian? Él era un niño de T H I C C. XD Eres un perro así. Es genial verte de nuevo. ¡Golpéame en algún momento!