(The only person responsible for these stories is morganwearsdieper on Roblox. There are no other accounts of that person. Anyone else is a liar who's so miserable with the fact that they cannot write well so they join and lie about writing this masterpiece.)
Imagine...
You and Joehdah were dressed in graceful black-tie clothing on a romantic date at the Eiffel Tower restaurant. No matter where you seemed to turn your head, everything you saw radiated elegance; the guests, the decor, the food, the view, the furniture, the staff, and even Joehdahs bald ass egg head.
But what didn't have any elegance was the little farts Joehdah kept on letting out.
It was beyond nauseating, how in each step he took, he farted. How when he sat down in his seat, he farted. How when he politely asked the server if the food had gluten, he farted.
You were too polite to say anything, as any little insult to poor Joehdah shattered the image he'd built up for himself. Joehdah always wanted to be viewed as a cool person. To point out his farting would've made him very hurt.
So you brushed it off. You're sitting in the dinner table, waiting for your food, letting him fart all his days off.
His voice interrupted your thoughts.
"I beat my meat to a video of a girl who looks like your mom," he asserted, not caring about the absurdness of the sentence.
"You- you what?" You questioned in reply.
As a response, Joehdah tightly shut one eye, popped his hip out from the side, and ripped the foulest one so far. It probably could've had a green cloud following after it if that was possible.
"Whew! That's my meanest one yet!" He chuckled it off, sitting back in his seat.
Before you could even react, the waiter came in with two large trays of your food, half of which was Joehdahs.
But the waiter faced an unlucky turn as he slipped on spilt water, screaming and falling right forward, crashing into the table. The food from his trays flew up, and splattered all over Joehdah.
Joehdah, seemingly panicking from his aura loss, quickly ran outside onto the balcony of the restaurant.
Despite it being a quick attempt at hiding from the embarrassment, you were still mad because he had reallyyyyyyyyyy stinky farts that he never apologized for.
So you followed him outside, and were shocked to see him ass-naked, squatting on the railing, with his booty facing the cliff, a really hurt look on his expression.
His eyes were squeezed shut and he was aggressively crying. It was like a poser wannabe viking toddler after their mom wouldn't let them meet the members of I Hate Lars Ulrich.
"What the fuck are you doing?" You shouted at him, interrupting his crybaby facade. He wiped his tears down, and mumbled through the loud thrash metal playing from below.
"J-just leave me alone..."
He turned his head away from you, but you stood there patiently waiting for a proper answer regardless.
"Ok! Fine! You win!" He bawled, groaning as he threw his hands up in the air for a second. What a man-child.
"I was..." he continued, "I needed to go poopy..."
His words came out quietly, almost in a mumbling sort of way. It's as if he'd seen shame in what he did.
Wait.
Why the fuck was he pooping off the Eiffel Tower balcony stripped down?
"Why the fuck are you pooping off the Eiffel Tower balcony stripped down?" You snapped, sick of how unpredictable he's been.
