🎄😏 Hoe! Hoe! Hoe!🎄😏 IT’S THE SLUTTIEST TIME OF YEAR AGAIN GURL! 📅 ❄️ ⛄️ So merry THOTmas, Happy DOMukkah, and a festive KwOwOzaa! 🎁🎄✡️ 🕎 ♥️🖤💚 SHHH! 🤫 Did u hear that? 😮👂 Somebody’s up on the rooftop! 🏠 ❄️ 🦌🦌🛷💥💥 IT’S YO DADDY DOM, JOLLY OL’ ST. THICCOLAS🎅⛓🥵🙀😻 and he says you’ve been XTRA naughty this year! 😈😜👅💦So he’s droppin’ down the chimney like it’s hot to bring u some THOTmas cheer! 🫳🎁🔥🔥BUT ONLY IF YOU SEND THIS TO 🔟 OF UR SLUTTIEST ELVES 🧝‍♀️🧝🎁 ✉️ if u get 0️⃣ back 😔 ur an UGLY GRINCH 🧌🫵 if u get 5️⃣ back ur back on the naughty list again next year 😈 📝 but if you get all 🔟 back you a real THOTmas SNACK pack and a hot HUNKin pie!!! 🍪🥵🥧🎄

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠜⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿
⣿⣿⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿
⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡧⠇⢀⣤⣶
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣮⣭⣿⡻⣽⣒⠀⣤⣜⣭⠐⢐⣒⠢⢰
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣾⣿⠂⢈⢿⣷⣞
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⡿⠿⣿⠗⠈⢻⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠻⠋⠉⠑⠀⠀⢘⢻
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢹⣿⣿⡇⢀⣶⣶⠴⠶⠀⠀⢽
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⢿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣧⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣴⠁⢘⡙
⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⠗⠂⠄⠀⣴⡟⠀⠀⡃

The Girl you just called fat? She ♥♥♥♥ herself & lost 15kgs. The Boy you just called stupid? He ♥♥♥♥ himself. The Girl you just called ugly? She spends hours ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ and farting. The Boy you just tripped? He ♥♥♥♥ his pants. There`s more to people than you think. Like this if your against bullying.

The Romani anxiously sat there, nestled crudely atop his crumb-ridden, gamer (tm) chair. His flabby forearms rest angled against his mottled keyboard. He was growing more feverish by the minute, evident by the hanging bags beneath his bloodshot eyes and the drops of sweat that occasional rolled down his slug-like physique.

"I'm tired of Necromancy roleplay!" He roared out, wroth more akin to beast than men. Tudor, as he went by in his mortal coil, was obviously frustrated due to his prolonged wait for an emote in the digitized world of mineman roleplay. The grandiose (in stature, rather) Romanian was tired of lord of the child pedophilia. The basement dweller longed for something new, something fresh. His patience was at its lowest as he anticipated the long awaited release of Chronicles of Nyrheim. Something he coveted as a "long hailed holyland." The degenerate denizens of the Craft had nothing left to offer the master necromancer overlord, which was what Tudor paraded as in the virtual realm.

With his temper boiling ever higher he tried to raise to a stand, the chair groaning out in almost sheer relief as the brunt of his weight was removed. He wobbled, clammy hands clutching at the desk to aid his balance. Turning aside, he squinted in the nigh darkness of the under dwelling. It had been months, many in fact, since he submerged himself in the dampness of his families' basement, vowing to never emerge until his lust for minecraft roleplay has been satiated. So he dwelled. Waiting for the day he so craved.