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You know what would be super meta, name dropping all you wonderful sussy bakas right off the bat. Yes you with your hands in your pants! You've all been been terrifically wonderful and made 'ol Timothy blush with all the love and sweet shekels you've gifted to his ♥♥♥♥ posts highly sophisticated intellectually stimulating noveltures. Hesh Act 4 and ★Gapstar★ if you see this, I hope you enjoy it in particular - Unfortunately I lacked the willpower to include the saucy Doc Mitchell fan fiction (might have to upload that somewhere more 'appropriate'), hopefully this cry for help humble morsel of literature will satiate your hunger. Aight peace.

To enhance the reading experience and introduce auditory and sensory stimuli, I highly recommend keeping this tab open, https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLHHrQ0Dj5Y7r4xjHfE9iu5ItUASjNKNlS, read every Frank Herbert Dune novelture in an abstract order and then micro-dose some Psilocybe Azurescens strain mushrooms, and you're good to go! Satisfaction guaranteed.

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My story begins in a quaint unnamed domicile of t̸͚͇̙̾͊͠h̸͉̪͕̿̀e̵͕͕̫̽̔ c̴͕̦͎̓̽̾o̴̡͍͑̈́͆n̴̢̙̓͑͝t̵͚͕͌̐̕͜e̵̻̞͖͆̈́͠m̸̡͎͎͒̿͘p̸̫͚͙̐̔͠ö̴͍̞͓́͐̀r̴̼̞͖̓͐͝a̵̪͇͎̿͘͘r̴̺͔̈́͋͊ÿ̸̻͇͍́͆͘ a̵̢̻͙̐͠m̸͓͙̦̔̀͘e̴̙̼͔͒͌r̴̡̦̚͜͝i̵̫͙̟̿̿͝c̸̢͎͎͝͝a̸̝͙͍͐͆̚n̸̡͉̼̔͋̒ m̴̡͙̓͛͝i̴̠̙̟͐͆̚d̵͎̠̺̓͛̓-̵̙͉͙̈́͑͊ẅ̴̺͙͕́̈́͒e̸̫̘͚͒̽́s̵͍̙͍͐͝t̵̡̞͉͐͌̈́.. Opulence, modernity, it was all really a front. I was living a life no different to the rundown Taco Bell two blocks away from my apartment, down by the projects. The façadism of selling a 5$ Family Taco Box Meal Set and yet no Ranch Dip - It was an unnatural disturbance that made me convulse deep down inside, and for once I knew it wasn't my colostomy bag, as I recently misplaced it. Endless quandaries blundered crisscross through my mushy synapses - Why did I feel this inner turmoil and why is Willem Dafoe such a brilliant method actor. Was I alone ... Was I ever not Alone?

I unburdened my immediate sorrows with a quick listen to Limp Bizkit's 2006 LP Results May Vary before escaping to the serene expanse of outside horizons - It was a starry night wrought with an unyielding feeling of accursed judgement from the celestial juggernaut looming above. As I lay bare to endless canvas of the abyss, faint cosmic whispers conferred with me. In the indistinguishable fit of cosmic wrought neurosis, one distinct name was heard - Gary Primm ...

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“There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.”
― Hunter S. Thompson

They say irony is fate, and fate is irony - I say 'they' but I don't particularly know who 'they' are or if they actually said it in the first place. Either way, the web of fate is twisting and weaving indistinguishably amongst the premonitions of mankind - For mankind itself has presided over its own destiny. As vaguely yet 'omniscient-ly' warned to Laius the King of Thebes, his own blood kin and offspring would usurp and betray him, what wasn't mentioned however was the copious amount of incest that would follow as well - You can praise the great static that I couldn't find a way to integrate the latter to this story.

Well who is this scandalous usurper? Who is this Oedipus? I'll tell you who ... Gary Primm.

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Tuesday June 16, 1936 - To the unenlightened mind, a mundane date of meaningless value - destined to miss the markings of ink and inscription to the chapters of fabled contemporary history. Two oddly yet specific things undeniably happened however - the Dutch Queen Wilhelmina opened a bridge ... Kinda poggers right? Then the Pope had a League Of Legends LAN party with some some Dutch politician named Anton Mussert, who would later get Thanos Snapped at the Hague Trials for doing some gamer things with the Nazis and LARP'ing a little too hard on discord when he created the 23rd SS Volunteer Panzer Grenadier Division Nederland. But I digress, this is all contextually irrelevant in the grand scheme of this manuscript - What really is important about this particular date is the sacred birthing of a future destined legendary and demi-god status figurehead.

The offspring of Ernest J. Primm, Gary Primm would grow up and evolve as the physical manifestation of the American Dream - Quickly overshadowing his fathers accomplishments in pioneering the establishment of the sleepy settlement of Primm, by 1981 he succeeded his old man by building a RADICAL slick BOMBASS resort/casino, complete with a hecking big and GOATED wooden roller coaster named the Desperado. In my extensive meth-crack/sleep deprived riddled research on Gary Primm I've seen many academic papers praising and likening the man to a charismatic mystic, prophet and even messiah. A man is only truly a man whence he admits his infractions and I henceforth will plead my initial err and naivety in not believing in Gary Primmism - the religious communion in praising his high exalted saviour, Gary Primm.

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If you were following the prologue, you would have known that my favourite pastime includes getting dressed up in WW2 era Surplus M62 Finnish Army Kit, eating Surströmming while watching the 1990 Moonmins Anime Series, at 4 A.M. But at the end of the day, there's only so much distraction and 'noise' you can put between yourself and self-actualisation, letting go and reestablishing your own inner self as the dominant force amongst the cycle of agents of destruction and chaos - that's key. Just as with the Rajneesh and Aum Shinrikyo theologies, I sought a religious doctrine that preached principles of peace, that condoned committing acts of domestic terrorism and devoid of mass LSD orgies - In Gary Primmism, I found that safe haven and heard his righteous siren call.

Sure Jesus could turn water to wine, BTS create world peace with their 9-Piece McDonalds Exclusive Meal but I'd like to see them try and commit tax evasion of an estimated $379,000 in property taxes over a 145-foot power yacht like Gary Primm did ... What a mad lad.

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Blood was getting pumped to all the wrong areas in me, I could not last any longer - it was as if I was in a lucid wet dream, sharing an in-room audience to the star studded veteran actor, Charles White Jr.'s performance on the Hunger Games set - I had to make a hasty pilgrimage to Gary's embrace or face a premature mishap. In a calculated and cautious decision, I liquidated all my assets and dipped on my Wife and Kids just like Spider-Man's parents dipped on him. I hitchhiked with some truckers and made it to Primm, in record time and mostly unmolested. Shangri-La awaited and so did Gary ... What would happen next ... *suspenseful copyright music*

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(Cursed Iteration Credited To DirtyDon219). If you somehow found this chapter amusing, congratulations you have just as terrible a sense of humour as I.

INTERMISSION CONCLUDED.
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It's 5 in the morning and I've nearly lost all feeling from my lower waist down, my fingers ache and so does my head. My eyes bloodshot from the strain of the computer screen and my abandonment of self-awareness, my eyes vacant and dilated. This really is reality, isn't it? I try to stand up but end up slump, back into this uncomfortable office chair - whats the point? I force my head to my left and scan an empty and dirty interior shared solely amongst myself. I look back at the screen and reluctantly discern a blank space headed by two words and a single digit, "Chapter 7: Resolution". I withdraw my hands from the keyboard and desk, laying them limp at my sides, before facing right of my desk . A faded picture frame with a beautiful woman's face, shes smiling and at her sides are two kids, they are all holding hands. There's a forth figure almost silhouetted behind them, a familiar male figure ... maybe once me. My eyes drift down to a musky stack of government papers at the foot of the picture frame - "Divorce/Separation Decree".

I begin to whimper and slowly tears begin to fall down my cheeks. Slowly the walls close on me and I shrink away to the darkness, my purgatory.



Fin. The End.