He can be all mine now, now that they're no longer a problem.
I loved him, oh, I would do anything for him. I was gonna go meet him and accept all of my long-deserved praise.
But when I got there, he didn't seem all too happy. Why wouldn't he? Maybe he thought he liked Miniature Portrait. Well, I know he didn't. Miniature Portrait was a bitch, and I was the opposite of a bitch, like uhh, god.
I went up to him, and asked why he was feeling a bit sad.
"Bro... Miniature Portrait was kinda hot... and interesting... I'm sad now... :pensive:"
Are you kidding me. Are you actually fucking kidding me. There is no way that that half assed picture frame could be anything remotely hot. Maybe he's just sad because he's bored and everyone else is uninteresting and fucking boring and shit and dumb fuck shit ass fuck??
I went around seeing how everyone else was, and they all seemed pretty damn sad too. At the loss of a friend?? A single friend died and all of a sudden they're acting like their mom died. Like bro. Miniature Portrait wasn't even that funny. Get over it.
Well, I saw what's happening, and I have an absolute diagnosis. Yup, as I suspected, everyone is boring as shit. I think what needs to be done right now is for a spark of drama to ignite.
And so I went around, spreading rumors of all kind.
"Yo bro Corrupt Orb is kinda gay :flushed:"
"Bro wait Can of Worms is kinda sussy"
"I'm not gay dude but like I'd let you fuck me in the ass lowkey tho"
And as I spread those rumors, others spread them like a conspiracy theory on Facebook. Everyone was talking, everyone was interested, and not a single soul was depressed. Not even my love. He was talking, running around and active, about as much as Usain Bolt, where before it was about as much as a Discord mod.
My wonderful plan worked. It was livelier than ever. And to top it off, There's one less problem for me to deal with, too. Also nobody could prove I killed Miniature Portrait, so I couldn't be arrested, lmao.
Now, all that I had to do, was eliminate all of the other threats.
