Day by day the noobs got worse. They came, they argued and swore. The mods did all they could to fight this scourge but it was no use. One by one they fell away... some left all together, some ran away, some simply lurk to this day. But for one survivor it took its toll.
JK47
had already taken his third round of medication and 6th coffee this morning, and it was only 4am. He was slowly fading away and losing his grip on reality. he was feeling, different. He walked into the bathroom to see his sunken and bloodshot eyes, a sacrifice that must me made to fight on the internet. The rubber duck, it sat there watching it intently "go away!" He screamed. But it continued looking. In anger he picked it up and threw it out of the window, breaking the wall of his shed. He grumbled to see if the bird brain was still alive. And to his astonishment it still was looking at him, but the dust was too much. He donned a marvellous spotted bandana and grasped a tennis racket leaning against the wall. It was years since he had last played tennis. Infact years since he left the house, he ordered himself food with each fish shipment. He stormed into the dusty haze of the shed and lifted the staring rubber duck onto the racket. It stared at him, boring deep into his soul. Rage spilt over him and he started running, running out of the gate and down the road before he blacked out on the pavement. He awoke in a police cell... his imagination told him otherwise. He started screaming and thrashing to get out of his tank and back into the terrestrial world. After a police search it turned out the 'medication' was bald eagle ashes mixed with beer. It filled JK47 with patriotism and no true patriot lets a rubber duck stare him down...
Lol i hope you enjoyed that