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You hold the firm belief that Pesterchum is fucking GARBAGE, but that hasn’t stopped you from making an account anyway since it’s what your friends are using nowadays.

It appears a CHUM is messaging you – if you ignore her too long, she starts to spam. Better answer her now and get it over with.

Your LAPTOP has seen better days, really, but it’s still working. You don’t have a desktop computer because your parents couldn’t be fucking bothered at all, but at least you have some form of technology in your room.

Let’s see.

LAPTOP… HEADPHONES… yeah, that’s it. And the other drawers. But those are just filled with OLD HOMEWORK you’re pretty sure you forgot to throw out at some point.

With PLEASURE.

Bullseye.

These things were taken about a year ago, you think. Not much has changed from then – you like to think you’re a little TALLER, but that’s about it. Sometimes you just stand in front of the pictures and ponder them, like you’re doing now. They’re not anything SPECIAL or anything– just some pictures of the first people who more or less GAVE A SHIT.

An ADVENTURER who one day will run off to become a fully fledged FURRY, a NERD who probably jacks off to BILL NYE, a DRAMA QUEEN who once almost stabbed himself with an actual KNIFE pretending to be JULIET, the local SPACE CASE…

Just some ASSHOLES you’ve sort of learned to tolerate.

No, but for real, which SICK FUCK thinks you’ll actually do that?

Which SICK FUCK thinks that after reading this COMMAND you’ll open your WINDOW, climb down your TREE, plunge a fist into the DIRT, and just start eating fucking WORMS?

Which SICK FUCK thinks anyone would do that?

The only purpose that’ll serve is to annoy your NEIGHBORS, wake up a few DOGS, and earn your PARENTS’ disapproval.

… Not that you care what they think.

Look, you might hate your BIRTHDAY, but that still doesn’t mean you’re gonna waste it by staring at two anatomical parts you happen to lack. You have a little more DIGNITY than that.

Besides, you haven’t opened that TRASH in like months.

You read sometimes when you have nothing better to do, not that anyone can tell from the meager collection you have out on display: HARRY POTTER, the HUNGER GAMES, a few SHITTY PIECES of MANGA a friend gave you – you hate the last ones, but sometimes find yourself re-reading them when time takes its toll. There are so many BOOBIES.

There’s also GUERRILLA WARFARE, but you’re pretty sure nobody knows you have this one, and that OTHER BOOK you will probably not deem RELEVANT until much later, when circumstances somehow force you into a similar situation.

Maybe.

Ugh. Idiot move as it may be, you decide to sneak a peek outside the door. Even if you don’t want to because your bed is pretty damn cozy right now.

It’s still the same dumb house. You’re not sure what you expected.

Fuck that noise. You’re cozy right here, with your LAPTOP, your BEAR, and your CLOTHES. And a few MICROWAVABLES and a MINI-MICROWAVE you absolutely did not loot from the kitchen.

You wield the mighty KNIFESTICKKIND -

Oh, for fuck’s sakes.

Fine, you’ll call it by the ‘proper’ name - SPEARKIND.

Stupid idea, no fucking way, stupid, stupid, stupid.

And yet… the shitty, broken totem. It beckons.

PUMPKIN? What PUMPKIN? It’s JUNE, dipshits. HALLOWEEN passed a long time ago.

The fuck do you look like? SPIDER-MAN? You already had a gruesome fantasy about your DEATH today, you don’t feel like making it into a REALITY just yet.