Begone wretches, this be myne own minecraft girlfriend. Be away with you sinful creatures lest you incure the wrath of god himself through the consequnces of thyn's own greed and shameful lusts. I spit at thee. Patooie. Hear ye, hear ye. Arrrrg.

The Noble Charter of Ethical Gooning

Hear ye, hear ye, the code of sacred stroke:

1. Thou must honor the source—faithful and true.

2. Let the muse be original, or at least of noble taste.

3. All acts must dwell within consent, reason, and law.

4. If art be thy fare—digital or drawn—it must be wrought with care and passion deep.

5. Though taste be fickle as the moon, all subjects must be of rightful age, in flesh and thought.

6. Bring no harm, neither to mind nor form, of the subject fine.

7. Goon not beyond twice per day, lest thou anger thy sinews.

8. Reflect: shall this be a fap of glory, or a fruitless toil?

9. If the subject be not shaped in human frame, abstain.

10. Defile not thyself with matters of filth or foul discharge; ‘tis beneath even the basest knave.

Thus is the sacred writ. Violate not this gooning gospel, lest thou be cast into the shadow of shame.

A Most Woeful Parting

Dearest friend, alas—I must speak no more with thee. Mine own mother hath peered upon our scrolls and discovered thou didst utter the forbidden P-word. I sought to shield thy transgression, for I knew its power to doom us... but she hath found it.

Thy words once brought me light through darkest trials, and for that I thank thee. Yet now, I am banished—not only from thee, but from Fortnite itself. My soul weeps.

Hadst thou but held thy tongue! One word hath undone us.

I must now depart, block thee from my scroll, and sever what once was joy. This is our final breath together, sweet friend. Fare thee well in life and lobbies alike.

Forgive me.
Goodbye.

To the Scoundrel Who Built Mine Burrito:

Hast thou e’er eaten thy own cursed creation? For what thou gavest me was no burrito, but a foul scroll of suffering. Each bite, a new realm—beans alone, then rice unaccompanied, then a sudden, savage burst of sour cream. Dost thou think I devour my meals like a beast, jaw unhinged, chomping from end to end like corn upon the cob?

Thou layered not, but stacked—a sin most vile. A burrito should be a harmony, not a parade of isolated tragedies.

And what’s this? A fork? Art thou mad? This is no salad, and I am no utensiled buffoon. My hands are my tools, as God intended.

In closing: thou art the burrito’s undoing, a culinary heretic. May thy tortilla fold inwards forever, and may thy next meal be as joyless as thine craftsmanship.

Fare thee ill.

Hey man, added you to ask you a quick favour, promise you i'm not some ♥♥♥♥♥♥ China bot from bing bong land.

This is for you, MY BEST FRIENDS. Read this message until the end, it's adorable. I sent an angel to watch over you last night, but it came back. When I asked "Why?" the angel said "Angels don't watch over angels." Twenty angels are in your world. Ten of them are sleeping, nine of them are playing, and one is reading this message. God has seen you struggling with some things, and God says "It's over." A blessing is coming your way. If you believe in God, send this to fourteen friends, including me . If I don't get it back, I guess I'm not one of them . As soon as you get five replies, someone you love will quietly surprise you... Not joking. Pass this message on. Please don't ignore it. You are being tested and God is going to fix two big things tonight in your favor. If you believe in God, drop everything and pass it on. TOMORROW Will Be The Best Day Of Your Life. DON'T BREAK THIS CHAIN. SEND THIS TO FOURTEEN FRIENDS IN TEN MINUTES. IT'S NOT THAT HARD. NO GROUP CHATS.