ARC

A few guys come to shitpost in your leaving thread, with such zingers as "c u next tuesday". Deciding to take your rage into the "Other RPGs" section of the forum, you begin to make a half-joking half-cry-for-help satire RPG detailing your struggle.

"You stand in the center of a kitchen, with a bread-filled toaster to your right and a very tall refrigerator in front of you. In what can only be described as a cruel twist of fate, you seem to have misplaced your butter. It sits atop the fridge, both cre-"

Before you're able to hit the button to make the thread, however, you're promptly banned. The lone reason listed beside the disrupting error message being a smarmy "lol". Is angry german kid still something that people remember? Because that's basically what happens afterward. Your keyboard is upended by your own two hands and bashed repeatedly against the desk, scattering letters in all directions. With one final swing, your computer's CRT monitor gets bashed in real good, some color still managing to show through the massively gaping cracks. The computer's manufacturers clearly did not design their hardware to withstand one lad's butter-angst fueled assault.

It was quite an expensive way to blow off steam, but you feel slightly calmed down. Heading back toward the kitchen, you reopen the refrigerator and down a spare glass of... butter. Yes, this is the same type of butter you could have simply poured onto your toast in the first place, but that's hardly an option after you chug the entire cup in one go. Your arteries are sure to appreciate their owner's consumption of straight lard.

You have caused roughly $1200 of property damage. What do you do now? (next post will come tomorrow)

use the scraps of computer to build a new toaster

Find as much flammable objects as possible, put them on the oven, and switch the oven on. Exit the house and start dancing naked in the street.

Eat the refrigerator

Restart the simulation

eat your mattress in rage

You hunch over with your arms hanging down limply. They swing from side to side <del>come on letsa go do the mario</del>. As you make your way to the bedroom to gather what remains of your computer, hauling it into the kitchen. Using your EXTREMELY HIGH INTELLIGENCE, you somehow manage to string together a new toaster made completely out of parts clearly not intended to be toaster-ified. The outer casing is constructed out of keys, giving it a fishy scale-like appearance. For the heating mechanism, you use a hard drive infected with 20 dozen different types of malware from downloading various aquarium screensavers and smiley toolbars over the years. Booting that thing up would generate enough heat to give some nasty third-degree burns on touch.

So, what do you do with this toaster? Throw it into the oven, of course. Because that makes sense. Apparently you're also in the middle of having another mental breakdown, because all your clothes are quickly flung off of your body and accompany the toaster inside the oven. Ass-naked, you turn the oven dial up to the max and do a cool-looking shuffle down the hallway, you conga the mattress and fridge outside and begin having an absolutely degenerate orgy. You crack half your teeth trying to consume the fridge, but have much better luck taking large bites of the mattress. The red ooze coming from your mouth mixes with the mattress' fluff, giving it that old-fashioned iron flavor. You get about halfway through the mattress before passing out through a combination of blood loss and food(?) coma.

Inside, the cloth-covered computer-toaster hybrid is white-hot. Reaching a temperature of roughly one bazillion, the fabric of space-time itself begins to burn away. Reality starts distorting and tilting: the trees rapidly wilt sideways, entire lawns shoot up and out of the ground and into the sky, glass breaks andeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEE GETS SO FUCKING DARK IN HERE COME COME FUCK APART IN HERE I DIE IN THE PROCESS YOU DIE IN THE PROCESS KETTLE DRUM ROLL HARD SHIT KILLA QUEEN DAISAN NO BAKUDAN [BITE ZA DUSTO]

Everything compacts into a single point before getting flushed down the mortal plane's toilet. When you wake up, you're back in the kitchen. The calendar reads a date a few days previous to the one you last remember. On the table, there is a container of butter and some freshly toasted bread. They are both clearly within your reach.

Dare you?

ascend to godhood

spread the butter onto the toast using your finger-like knife appendages attached to each of your seven arms

decide "fuck it", and go outside and buy some new vidya games for your computer and ask the person at gamestop/wherever you're going for video games "you hear about video games?"

Blog the shit out of buttering that toast and become this year's hot new internet dude