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I'm shaking. I'm fucking shaking. I never wanted to breed with anyone more than I want to with Nolan Grayson. That perfect, shredded body. The perfectly trimmed mustache. The planet conquering skills of a literal god. It honestly fucking hurts knowing that I'll never mate with him, have him pass his genes through me, and have me birth a set of perfect offspring. I'd do fucking ANYTHING for the chance for Nolan Grayson to get me pregnant. A N Y T H I N G. And the fact that I can't is quite honestly too much to fucking bear. Why would Robert Kirkman create something so perfect? To fucking tantalize us? Fucking laugh in our faces?! Honestly, I just fucking can't anymore. Fuck.

1. Wake up 2. Check memfolio, buy more PLTR calls 3. Shit while looking at charts, don’t wipe 4. Fomo and buy the top 5. Watch stock Plummet 6. Sell, watch stock go up 7. Go to WSB and downvote everything 8. Jerk off, nut, realize how empty you are 9. Stare at futures for 3 hours 10. Sleep & repeat

The year is 2030. It's a rainy Saturday afternoon. You've just finished mining 30 obsidian ore playing Crypto Crush Saga, a match-3 mobile game. You open up The Elder Chains Online and feel a rush of excitement. Your school buddy has spent years becoming a Master Blacksmith, and he has agreed to turn 10 obsidian into an Obsidian Battlestaff, a HUGE upgrade over the Mithril Mace you’ve been wielding for the last months. It’ll take him an hour or so. In the meantime, you log into Clash of Guilds, and use the remaining obsidian to upgrade your town hall to the next level. That should keep your village safe for now. You wish you could fast forward time to tonight. Your Guild has plans to go for a deep run into the wilderness in Old School Rune Chains, and your prospects of a successful run (and great loot) have never been better. All guild members have been spending the past 2 weeks grinding for better weapons, and you’ve agreed (through a vote) to use the Guild treasury to buy everyone a new full set of Red Dragonhide Armor. Tonight’s objective is to kill the level 128 Frost Giant hiding in the Cave of Sorrow. He has a 5% chance of dropping an Immaculate Orb of Brilliance, of which there are currently only 4 in existence. The Orb can be used as a power source in an upcoming space exploration game, and should give your guild a great advantage in reaching distant galaxies first. A 5% drop rate is low, but you’re feeling optimistic. In the distance, you hear a faint 'BloCkChAIn doEsNT bRiNg AnYtHiNg nEW tO gAmES'. You shrug, and join your friends in the Discord voice channel. Life is good.

Theres a very unsportsmanlike player at our club who constantly taunts and belittles everyone else. Whenver you make a mistake he yells out "blunder!" or "inaccuracy!" ... "better move was..." and then says the engine move or what he thinks the engine move is. He also says what he thinks the engine +- is. He plays the kings gambit as much as he can and knows like 30 moves deep into every variation. If you respond something other than e5 to 1.e4 he just laughs and calls you a patzer. He's also OBSESSED with Hikaru Nakamura. He talks about him all the time and shows everyone a picture of him with Hikaru (Its really blurry so its hard to tell if its even him). He's constantly talking about him as if he's a close friend even though he only (maybe?) met him one time. Its bordering on creepy and makes everyone uncomfortable. He calls him "Hikaru-San" which I think is part of his obsession with Japanese culture. He also brings japanese noodles/Ramen to the club every day and will spend like 5-10 minute eating them during his turn just to taunt you. Meanwhile he will be mumbling words in japanese. We tried approaching about his conduct but he just did some weird anime villain laugh, yelled something in Japanese, then ran off to challenge another person to a blitz match. We obviously don't want to tell him not to come but it feels like his presence is deterring new people from joining and its also exhuasting.

Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly. "The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee. TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair. Bear King Burry turns to the crowd "Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?" A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries. On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time. "Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..." Bear King Burry turns to WSB "Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch." "Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want." A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring. "And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously. BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends. "Who am I?" the robed figure inquires. The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall. The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence. "Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly. The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature. The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes. "I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."