／ﾌﾌ 　　　　　　 　ム｀ヽ
/ ノ) ᴅᴏ ᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ lift? ）　ヽ
/ ｜　　༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ⌒（ゝ._,ノ
/　ﾉ⌒7⌒ヽーく　 ＼　／
丶＿ ノ ｡　　 ノ､　｡|/
........`ヽ `ー-'_人`ーﾉ
..........丶 ￣ _人'彡\
.............\ 彡 _人彡l
..............\____B======================================================D
............./____/\____\

dont ask questions.

wtf did i just read?

I used to roll half a bottle of laxative pills into a Crunch wrap supreme and then leave cow pies on peoples door mats. People in my town installed porch cameras to catch the "Phantom S hitter" they said it couldn't possibly be one man, the hits were too frequent and too large. It had to be a whole gang of city punks coordinating and making planned precision strikes. I felt like a god among lesser beings in my town. Every time i was at the local diner and i overheard someone screaming about the black slop they found on their porch i felt powerful and unstoppable. I became too arrogant, started striking during the day. That's when they caught me and strung me up in the streets and hit me with rocks. I barely escaped with my life and i had to leave town. Now after all these years, I'm in a new town and I behave well enough. But I've got this nagging feeling, the urge is back, and I'm starting to think that my new town is about to experience a storm