>be me
>lifting in the garage
>mom walks in with a plate of tendies with chinese sauce
>always told mom to not to come to the
garage while I lifted
>always told mom to never look me in my eyes while I lifted (its where my demons hide)
>she made eye contact
>the plate fell from her hands
>the young man she had been raising had turned into a FUCKED UP beast
>she covers her mouth with both her hands as she lets out a yelp
>turns around and runs away
>put the rusty barbell down
>calmly walk up to the mirror and smash it as I see the beast too
Gosh dang it /fit/, we were gonna go shopping this
weekend. What do I do now?
I can’t say if this is satire.
I cannot qualify your certainty without a deific invocation. Would you say that this is the truth, on god?