— “Fuck you, falling into a world and just getting lost! No, no, no! Current-fucking-day! You take everything we love — all our immersions, all our fantasies, all our escapism — and you can’t help shovel your dogshit, fucking-crap ideology into everything!”
— He won’t fucking shut up. Knock him out.
[Challenging: Success] — The wavering of his voice, the tears dewing in his eyes, the erupting tantrum; he isn’t acting like the usual grifters you’ve seen. He believes this. Video games are the only thing that he has. You can see before you the faded afterimage of a friendless little boy, kneeling alone in a patch of playground grass and clover. He’s been this way forever.
— Don’t go soft on a display this pathetic. Make an example out of him. His little computer-buddies need to be too ashamed to agree with him in the open.
What fucking Disco writer is secretly running this account, goddamn, how do you nail it every fucking time?
If you’re Kurvitz you have to tell us. It’s the law
I hear their voices in my head
I like how how every half-light suggestion is to kill someone like a wild animal or crawl into a corner and cry