Oh b o y oI stared at the screen as many before me have, attempting to close out and add. Alas, it had failed.
In utter terror I had realized: They had given the site a reputation system. Only the best of the best could get to the top of 200,000 points: how you loose the damned adds that were everywhere.
I chugged a handful of popcorn down my throat, gagged and wondered how I will get through life at this rate, and began typing once I got over my coughing fit. (My dog staring at me with dissapointment the entire time, as he should)
Five hundred and thirty-three characters. I will not fall into the deception of those before me, I know where the limit is after typing up many unfinished stories.
More popcorn, gagging, and silent judgment from my dog. Still not enough. I could hear the green duct from the YouTube series Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared screaming “tHeRe’s NoT eNoUgH tIme!!!1!1!” Over and over in my head.
Laughing, and glancing down, I looked at the word count. I was over halfway through this God-forsaken story that is no way on the list that I have dubbed “The banes of my existence.”
I stepped out after a few moments into the night and mild chill to freshen my senses, and just about choked to death walking there. This time it was actually not on popcorn.
One thousand, three hundred and twenty eight characters.
So close, but yet too goddamn far AWAY. I NEED REP POINTS GODDAMNIT.
WHY DO YOU HURT ME SO BADLY, QFEAST!? I HAVE BEEN SO KIND TO YOU, RARELY EVER CONPLAINING OF THE ISSUES ON THIS GOD-FORSAKEN SITE THAT IS THE DEFINITION OF DRAMA. I HAD SOLVED THE DRAMA YOU HAD NEGLECTED, AND THIS IS MY REPAYMENT. WHY DO YOU HURT ME SO, QFEAST!?
I WANT NOTHING MORE THAN TO GET MY ADVERTISMENTS FILLED WITH PERVERTED GAMES AND DRESS SHOPS I DISPISE SO MUCH. IT BURNS MY SOUL IN SUCH ADGITATING WAYS.
Oh, how I hate this system you have put into place. I dispised this ever-so much. Why must you hurt this small community this way?
I will stop typing as soon as