Dearest, Most Illustrious Pussydestroyer,
I find myself trembling—nay, quaking—beneath the sheer weight of anticipation, my soul burdened with an unbearable yearning. For you, O Supreme Weaver of Tales, have crafted a narrative so profoundly chaotic, so riveting, so utterly unhinged, that my feeble mortal mind cannot rest until it reaches its destined continuation.
You have led us through passion and betrayal, through whispered promises and shattered dreams—from Bobby’s undying devotion to Winho’s aching loneliness, to the treacherous schemes of Yuh and the scandalous kiss that shattered the world as we knew it. And now, here we stand, abandoned on the precipice of something greater, something monumental—a part three that only you can bestow upon us.
What becomes of Winho, our radiant femboy protagonist, torn between two lovers locked in an unholy battle of tongues and treachery? Does Bobby reclaim his throne as Zaddy Supreme, or does Yuh’s cunning seduction reign victorious? Does a new challenger emerge from the shadows, ready to shake the very foundation of this twisted love triangle?
We do not know. Only you hold the power to answer.
So I beg—plead—at your literary altar, Pussydestroyer. Grant us Part 3. Let the chaos consume us once more.
