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The year is 2021. You look at the television. SIlver fox President Biden announces a vaccine mandate for employees. You clutch your limited edition Trump Funko Pop. It has begun. You gather up all your belongings, and jump into your truck, hitting the highway for the airport. Out of your rearview mirror you can make out a sleek black Prius pursuing you. You make out the numbers “1” “9” “8” and 4” on their license plate. You are able to lose the Prius and arrive at the airport. You are almost free. At airport security You see a young man being dragged away screaming. The guards yell something about him having more than 3.4 oz of liquid. Thankfully you only have an AR 15 on you. The guard inspects it. “It’s for hunting,” you say. They hand it back to you and wave for you to move along. You breathe a sigh of relief. “One more thing.” You turn to see a Guard staring down at you with their beady soulless eyes. “I need to see your vaccination card” It is too late. You try to run away, but you feel someone press a cloth against your face. Reality fades away. You wake up in some kind of lab, chained down to an operation table and gagged. The room is undecorated except for a single poster of Harry Styles in a dress on the wall. A single figure stands in the corner shrouded in shadow, fiddling with a syringe. As they step out of the shadow, you can make out their face, the roguishly handsome Gavin Newsom. He positions a large surgical headlight above you and turns it on. He holds up the large syringe to the light and chuckles, staring into your pleading eyes. “Don't worry, it will all be over soon” He removes his mask to reveal his serpent's tongue, flickering in amusement. He plunges the syringe straight through your “socialism is for figs” shirt into your arm. “Nighty night” Your world fades to black once more.

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.

Oh great! Another 2 sentence long pasta! What a game changer! I'm sure the 5 measly lines of text you just posted are going to be the next big copypasta in no time! This is hilarious! Great Stuff! I can really see this being the next big thing! It's gonna be the next "Navy Seal" or "Penguin Of Doom", I can feel it! I love how short and boring it was! Extra points for being extremely forgettable with no interesting lines, a complete lack of tone, and, as I mentioned earlier, an extremely compact 30 to 40 word length! You know what you should do? You should, unprompted, post this godawful pasta in the comments of a post on a separate subreddit and when people downvote you you can post it to r/AteThePasta! Now that would be funny! Almost as funny as the pasta itself, which, may I remind you, is extremely short! God I can't believe you came up with this all on your own! Thanks so much for this! It's truly a gift! And it made me realise that no matter how hard I try I will never find a copypasta as funny as this roughly 30 word paragraph that has already been forgotten by the 47 people who upvoted it, and the 20 people who commented !thesaurizethis over and over again! And I should give up all hope of coming up with such a great pasta in my life, so I'm simply going to kill myself tonight! This is your fault! Your copypasta made me kill myself! I'm going to write your reddit username in my suicide note, as well as the entire copypasta, which I should have no trouble fitting on the page since it's so fucking short! Thanks again! 😁

Gonna be checking the market every chance I get while pretending to think my brother-in-law's Cards Against Humanity answers are funny.

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.

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."

This game is so buggy that even the character creator is broken I heard that the game had some bugs but I wasn’t expecting them to hurt my experience so quickly. I was making my character and I got to the genitals option and gave my character a penis. I scrolled through the size option and noticed a game breaking bug. The labels are wrong for the penises. I gave my character what was labeled as “small penis” and was surprised to find that it was way bigger than my real penis. This is a serious game breaking bug and CD Project Red needs to make fixing this issue it’s number one priority.

FUCK YOU. I have heard that "lol you must be fun at parties" at least a hundred times. GET FUCKING ORIGINAL. Jesus fucking christ. Stop saying the same fucking thing over and over and over again. Just because you don't agree with me DOES NOT HAVE SHIT TO DO WITH PARTIES. What the fuck. Do you fucking fart at parties or something? If so I don't want to go to your shitty-ass parties in the first place. I'll stick to my wine and cheese dinners, you know, REAL FUCKING PARTIES. I downvoted you because not one thing you said was original. You're just a robot programmed to say these phrases over and over again to feel connected to 1s and 0s on the internet. You've never been to a party. That's why you say those things. WELL I'M FUCKING tired. of it. I'm tired. Say that to me one more fucking time and I will find you. I'm taking a stand. I am so sick of the stupid "parties" comeback. It's not fun. It's not clever. It's really fucking hurtful. Thanks a lot, dick. So what if you don't like what I said. Is that any reason to dismiss my entire comment and quote a little comeback. What's next, you're going to explain to me with crayons or call out my bullshit by how I overcomplicating things? If I see one more fucking party comment, I'm going to lose it. I'm going off the fucking chain and fucking report all you motherfuckers who think it's funny to comment about being fun at parties. Try me. I will do it. I will go STRAIGHT TO THE FUCKING TOP and then I'll be the one laughing while you beg for my mercy. Then you know what I'll say while you come to me crying and begging to die so you can stop the agony? I'll say "You must be fun at parties." So yeah, If you must know, I am pretty fun at parties. Not that you'll ever find out, dick.