>>15991

Squunch sat forlornly in his mother's basement, and pondered the injustices of life, his head whirling with a seething sense of betrayal. Deep down, he knew that it was his own fault, after all he had asked for suggestions, like some retarded newbie, and his biggest fan had kindly obliged.

True, it had been just a few, fleeting exchanges, in some dark corner of the interwebs, but he had thought he had found a real soul-mate; finally had a meeting-of-minds with someone who truly understood his passion. The guy had even provided great suggestions for characters, and had showered his perverted, self-indulgent scribblings with praise.

Squunch brushed the Cheeto dust from his blim-burn riddled Batman T-shirt, heaved his 300 pound frame onto its flat feet, and started to pace up and down, fueled by adrenaline.

"AND THEN HE COMES AT ME WITH THIS NORMIE SHIT!" he yelled at Sponge Bob. Sponge Bob sat on the shelf in quiet agreement. Didn't this soy-boy understand that it was a splatter story? All the other girls had met the most messy, gruesome deaths that Squunch could conjure up. And now this Loke character wanted him to debase the whole premise, and treat the twins "delicately," and "see what their boobies are made of." Everyone who had read the Masher episode knew what they were made of. Gore. What the hell did he think this was? Sesame Street?

There is no retribution to be levied against online randoms. As Squunch's rage boiled over he realised there was only one option left to maintain his artistic integrity. He must unleash the full fury of his vengeance on Loke's beloved, precious, squishy-crunchy Miyu.