░▄███▄░░██░░░██░░░░▄███▄░░██░██░██░░██
██▀░▀██░██░░░██░░░██▀░▀██░██▄██░██░░██
███████░██░░░██░░░███████░██▀██░██░░██
██░░░██░████░████░██░░░██░██░██░▀████▀

░▄███▄░░██░▄██░█████▄░░▄███▄░░████▄
██▀░▀██░████▀░░██▄▄█▀░██▀░▀██░██░██
███████░████▄░░██░░██░███████░████▀
██░░░██░██░▀██░█████▀░██░░░██░██░██

When I was 5 years old, an old man approached me on the street. He said that one day evil would come, and it would be so horrific that even uttering its name would kill you. He then said that he was dying of eye cancer because he saw someone who saw a screenshot of a level nine fox bot. He leaned in and said, I will use my life, so you can safe many more. He whispered the words "Jab Spam" then coughed up blood and died.
It wasn't until the following June that I would discover what was so horrible about this abomination. I lived in the small town of Madison, Connecticut. My friend across the street had bought a gamecube, first ever in the town, and I was invited to watch him play his first game. When I got there, there were six other people gathered around the TV waiting to watch him. He was about to start a game, when I left the room to get a soda.
When I came back, there were 6 charred bodies lying around the computer and a pile of ash in the gamer's seat.