abuse adoption albuquerque-stories bad_miwkies bestest_babbeh_abuse black_salve explicit fluffies-as-food icepick miwkie-experimentation miwkie-pwace_abuse necrosis poopeh-babbeh-dies sketties smarty-abuse the_sadist's_adoption transplant wawa_am_bad_fow_fwuffies


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The Sadist's Adoption
By TheWestMesaFluffCollector

Chapter Three - A Mummah’s Deconstruction

Giovanni awoke to the sound of screaming.


He almost cackled in glee. He was guessing that the tranquilizer had worn off. Throwing his legs over the bed, he calming walked over to the bathroom, eager to see what sights he would behold.

Pickle was already in there. “Muns...daddeh…” He was holding the four babies away from Melody, who were awake, reaching for them, and of course, screaming. “Mewody miwkie pwace am….am….”

Giovanni walked over and squatted near the mare, making sure he had his gloves covered for safety. “What’s going on, Melody?’

Melody looked at her, her eyes red from tears and pain. “Mummmah….miwkie...pwaces….*chirp*....am…..”

Giovanni rolled her over, and grinned when he saw the damage.

The Black Salve had done it’s job, and quickly. Most of Melody’s teats were destroyed, with the nipples all consumed by the black scabs that the substance was known for. There were...holes...where the black salve had cored into her two breasts. Most of the tissue around the already dead and scabbed over tissue was already turning a dark purple, from where the flesh was dying.

Satisfied, Giovanni turned towards Pickle and told him, “Take the babies out of here. I’ll give some formula to them in a little bit.”

Pickle nodded, and then walked away. Melody began to scream “NU! Nu steaw Mewody babbehs! Gif babbehs back! Ebil fwuffy Pickwe!”

Pickle put his head down, the assault from the mare striking him almost as severely as Giovanni’s sorry stick strikes did. “Huu huu….Pickwe onwy wanted fwend, nu mowe huwties. Nu wowwy babbehs, Pickwe wiww tak’ cawe of’ ‘ou.”

Giovanni closed the door, then walked back to Melody. He wiped the smile off his face. It was time for him to go to work. He stared right back at her. “I told you that your milky places weren't working. And you didn't listen to me. You’re just lucky nothing happened to your babies from that bad milk you gave them” He moved in closer. “So now,” Gio replied, in the cold tone he reserved for the occasional guy from lock up that he occasionally had to patch up when he was in the Emergency Room, “Because you fed your foals, now your ‘miwkie pwaces’ got infected, and now I have to take these off of you.”

Melody was horrified. “Nu tak’ away miwkie pwaces! Nee’ fo’ gif bestest, sweetie miwkies fo’ babbehs!” Giovanni let himself loose. “Don’t you fucking listen, you stupid piece of shit! Your fucking teats are gone! If I don’t take them off, you will fucking die, and then who is going to take care of your babies? Pickle? He’ll probably forget about them once he’s bored, and that’s if he doesn’t use them as an ‘enfie’ babbeh. Do you really want to take that chance?” She shook her head. “How badly do you wanna see your babies grow up?” Then, he added, in a whisper, “Do you want to leave them with him?”

Somehow, the connection was made to Melody, much to Giovanni’s relief. He wasn’t sure if Melody would be able to understand the subtle effects of his attempts to gaslight Pickle in front of her.

Melody sniffled. More than anything, she wanted to be able to song to her bestest babbeh, and coo as he drank her wonderful, life giving milk to him. But, she had no choice. Otherwise, her babbehs would have no mummah at all, and her dummeh daddeh might let that other ‘stoopie fwuffy’ hurt her babbehs. She sighed, and, after giving one less fleeting look to the door where her babies had left. She looked down and said “Pwease daddeh, take miwkie pwaces away. Nu wan weave babbehs and gu fowebbah sweepies.”

Giovanni smiled, a cold, dark smile . “I would be happy to ....”


Giovanni soon had Melody sedated and restrained. He had his list of tools already laid out. As such, it was time for him to get to work. He could hardly contain his excitement.

After making sure to tie off any blood circulation, Giovanni began cutting inside each of the stripped teats. One of the wonderful things about fluffy biology was that everything was so self-contained. This was partially by Design, as Hasbio had originally intended for fluffies to be tended to in official Hasbio Fluff Care Centers. However, it made for repairs, treatment, and abuse to be much simpler.

After cutting off the blood flow, Giovanni made sure to seal up any important arteries, as well as anything that could be vital. Then, he began to gently slice around the teats, until having several of the skin, he began to sever the layers of fat that surrounded each. Melody slumbered on comfortably. No, he noticed upon seeing the thin trickle of tears coming from her face, even though he had given her a strong dosage of anesthetic, it was likely that she was still feeling some sort of pain. He didn’t care.

Now that the hard part was over, it was time to start removal. Picking up a large knife, Giovanni went ahead severed the remaining ligaments, skin, and meat that remained, before pulling off each of the destroyed breasts from her lower abdominal cavity. Soon, he had the pair of useless, and almost hollow teats on a tray. He’d dispose of them later. In any case, it was time to continue..

He had left enough skin around the remains of the breasts to be able to make a pair of skin flaps, from which he was able to seal the cavities that had once held the mare’s teats. Then, using a thick threat, he quickly and efficiently was able to close up and stitch the wounds, making sure to cover both with the antibiotic cream. Finally, he wrapped Melody in bandages, in order to prevent infection. It would make her attempts to sleep something of a chore, but that was something that he could live with.

“See, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Giovanni said quietly. Melody was silently sobbing in her sleep. It was likely that the pain was still coming in waves. He hoped that she would pull through. He still had many things that he wanted to try.

In the meantime, he had to go check on Pickle. By now, he had likely already introduced the foals to the “miwkie station.”


Pickle was beside himself, perched on top of the four teat 'miwkie station', color coated to indicate which foal went where. He had a goofy smile on his face, as he said "Dats it, widdwe babbehs, cum get da miwkies! Pickwe pwomise dat miwkies mak 'ou big and stwong!"

It was almost heartwarming, Giovanni thought.


The reason for the color coordination was rather simple, though, for him. It ensured that Pickle would know which foal was to receive which formula, two of which had been tinkered with by him. He had heard tales of mad scientists experimenting with milk, and had even seen a variant of such experiments being sold in stores for runty foals.

However, in his case, he wanted to make sure that that each foal ate at the correct teat for a reason: he had doctored the milk. The blue earthy was being fed a variant of the formula used by breeders, designed to try for higher value foals, especially those chasing alicorns. The green foal was being fed a formula that he had added FGH (Fluffy Growth Hormone), normally used by abusers who trained the fluffies to fight, especially those that frequented the place called "The Prison" in Albuquerque. The red and the honey colored shitheads were fed standard milk, although he made sure to use less sweetener in the yellow bastards, not wanting it to have any sort of pleasure.

This soon reached the desired effect, as the yellow foal soon refused the teat, peeping angrily at the lack of flavor. Pickle trotted over. "Cum nao, babbeh. Pwease haf mowe miwkies. Dat way, we can wun and pway when 'ou am tawkie babbeh." The yellow foal began to peep angrily, and then, much to Giovanni's amusement, shit itself, the foal related equivalent of sorry poopies.

"NU! Babbeh! Nu du bad poopies! Pickwe wiww get da sowwy stick!" Pickle immediately began to eat the foal's feces, getting another shot of crap in the face in the process.

Giovanni chose to make his presence known. "It's too late." He trotted over and seized the honey colored foal by the scruff of his neck. "This was the foal that was eating that 'bad miwkie' from his mother. It's no wonder he's a bad babbeh."

Pickle was nervous. "He am onwy widdwe babbeh, Mastah. Pwease, nu gib huwties. He am tuu widdwe."

“No one is too little for hurties.” Giovanni said dryly, before holding up the foal to roughly eye level. It was fat and crying, causing Giovanni to roll his eyes and flick it in it’s stomach. He missed, causing him to knick one of his testicals instead, causing the foal to suddenly gasp and breath harder.

Meanwhile, Pickle was beside himself. Swallowing hard, he went up to Giovanni and placed a hoof on his pants. “Mastah, pwease huwt Pickwe instead."

Giovanni granted his wish and slapped him, sending him flying back and bumping the miwkie station, upsetting the three foals still nursing. "If I give you his hurties, he'll never learn. If he's going to behave like a 'poopie babbeh', he'll either turn into one or he'll get the sorry box. For sure, he's getting the second choice." He pointed to each of the three remaining foals. "Finish fucking feeding them, make sure they poop, and then clean them. I'll be back later."

Pickle nodded, nursing his bruises, trying to keep up the brave facade for the foals. "Das it, pwetty bwooie babbeh, dwink awww da miwkies 'ou can."


Giovanni left the apartment, having left the honey colored foal in a sorry box, an Amazon cardboard box that he had been meaning to throw out. Something about the grinning box holding a tormented foal gave him the giggles. In any case, he had something to do. He was due on shift that night at around four, in order to help out in a surgery scheduled for that morning. As such, his time for what he planned to do was limited. He began to drive around, looking in alleyways, parks, and street corners for any sign of ferals. He soon found one

In an alleyway near a barbecue joint, was a pair of mares and a single, shivering stallion, that was wandering around, bellowing out it’s demands to other patrons.

"Gif smawty nummies nao!" The dingy blue stallion bellowed. "Gif nummies nao ow wiww gif sowwy poopies and hoovies...an...an....."

Giovanni smiled. Perfection. The two mares were both pink, with unfortunate brown manes. No, upon closer inspection, one was closer to red, but had been lightened by the dusting of snow. Both were attempting to keep their pathetic nests warm, while cooing to their babies. "It am otay, babbehs. Spechuw fwend wiww get nummies and wawmsies." Giovanni smiled. Not likely. It was then that he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out two items: a set of gloves, and a sharpened ice pick.

Then, walking out, he waited until he was alone with the ferals. He didn’t have to wait long, as people didn’t linger out too much in the cold.

It was showtime.

“Hey genius, didn’t anyone tell you to not have foals during the winter?’ Giovanni called out.

The stallion turned, a small nub of a horn in the center of it’s face becoming more and more obvious with the stallion’s scowl deepening. “Fwuffeh nu am genius! Am Smawty!”

“No shit!” Giovanni teased, continuing on. “Only the stupidest stallion alive would try to have babbehs in this weather.” He egged the stallion on, as he could see it’s frustration build up. “Ooooooh, smawty am smawwwwttty….” He said, imitating the stallion’s nasal voice. “Suuuuu smawty dat smawty can haf da bestest babbehs in cowd times, ebbeh doe smawty haf nu fucking cwue wewe tu fin nummies in da cowd times.”

That did it. Letting out the world’s least intimidating battle cry, the stallion charged. Giovanni timed his strike right and stabbed the stallion right where the nub of his lost horn was.

“Ooooh wook, smawty, ‘ou is a hownie fwuffeh awgain.” Giovanni teased as the stallion gurgled on it’s own blood as it died. He went ahead and unstuck the ice pick, then chucked the corpse in front of the two mares. “Useless piece of shit.”

The two mares began to freak. “Reee! Nu huwt gud mummahs!” Giovanni moved fast, for it wasn’t the mares he wanted. It was the foals. He quickly, and efficiently stabbed each mare through their eye sockets, rattling around the ice pick inside each of their skulls for good measure.

Mother’s disposed of, Giovanni decided to take a look at the foals.

The entirety of both litters was pathetically small, only four in total, with Giovanni making out six frozen putrefying foals near the back of the alley. He checked each of them, finding all earthies, one a pink colt, another a match for the smarty’s coloration, a electric neon green, and, what he was looking for: a brown. They all look roughly a week old, and were already chatty.

The foals were all looking up at him in confusion. “Nyu daddeh?” They asked.

“Only to one of you. The rest of you are going to go to a special place: the border. It’s an even more magical place than ‘Skettiland.’” Giovanni responded with a sly smile.

The foals began to immediately fight amongst themselves, each one calling out “Gif bestest huggies!” and “Pick fwuffeh!”

Giovanni pretended to ponder. “I’ll take….. you!”, he said, pointing to the brown fluffy. It cheaped out in excitement. “Yus!” The other three weren’t disappointed. They were going to the wonderful place, called “Da Boawdah.” Whatever it was.

On his way home, Giovanni stopped by one of the areas where the Rio Grande flowed merrily under a bridge. Then, rearing back, he chucked each of the three foals into the frozen depths of the river, noting with amusement at how he was able to get a perfect spiral on the last two. He still had his arm, it seemed, even 8 years after he last played with La Cueva.

“Say hello to the Federales when you see them.” Giovanni laughed, before heading back home.


After entering the home, Giovanni found the three foals all asleep with Pickle in a fluff pile, with the later having the biggest shit eating grin on his face. By the time it was all over, Giovanni mused, he wouldn’t be smiling.

Checking on Melody, he found the mare still sleeping. He carefully moved the mare from the bathroom to the closet, placing her near the fluff pile, but not enough to where she could wake them up if she rolled over. Closing the door, he headed back towards the front, where a old box lay, with a curious brown foal inside. It was time for him to go to work.

Giovanni took the brown foal, a colt, now that he had checked him, and walked him towards the balcony. “Wai nyu daddeh tak babbeh to high pwace?” The foal asked.

Instead, Giovanni quickly emptied the foal’s bowels, sending a small stream of runny piss and shit onto the bushes below. The foal protested. “Wai nyu daddeh mak babbeh du bad poopies? Meanie daddeh.”

Giovanni remained silent. Finished, he took the foal back towards the bathtub, where he cleaned the foal, washing it of grime and dirt. The foal protested, declaring the usual bullshit about ‘wawa bad fo fwuffy.’ That would be the least of his issues soon, anyhow.

Taking out an immobilizer made from a cutting board one drunken night when he was feeling inventive, Giovanni soon found that he had a immobilized brown foal. It struggled against the restraints.

The brown foal looked up, tears in it’s intentionally cute, genetically engineered eyes. “Nyu daddeh, babbeh nu knu wat babbeh did, but pwomise not tu...EEEEEEEEEEEEE”

Giovanni had forced open the foals mouth, having realized the screaming would alert the neighbors. Instead, he took a long scalpel, and, working carefully, severed the vocal cords of the foal, albeit a bit roughly, due to the lack of space. The foal coughed, but the effect was complete. It was….more or less mute.

It was then that he went back to the front and brought back the box that contained the foal. It had shit itself, again, as it continued to call out in vain for it’s mother. This wouldn’t due. Giovanni reached down to get the foal ready for a quick bath in some cold water he had in the sink. To his surprise, the foal tried to move away, moving it’s short, stubby legs in a vain attempt to walk. Giovanni scowled as he saw the foal try and evade him. He seized it by the scruff of the neck, making sure to pinch it roughly, causing it to emit a long “cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” before

Giovanni quickly rinsed the shit stained foal before taking out the small, foal sized immobilizer that he had purchased for the event. Stamped with a small logo with a tearful foal, branded “MAI FIWST OWWIES”, Giovanni quickly and securely had the foal in his temporary prison. The foal began to weep, not that he would have been able to escape anyway.

Then, taking out a marker, Giovanni measured out a several squares onto each of the foals, making sure that the size was exactly the same. However, while the donor foal had six squares more or less next to each other on his fluff, the honey colored foal had his set up in a distinctive checkerboard pattern. He took his time, making sure everything looked as aesthetically pleasing as possible. Then, he took out a pair of scalpels, some tweezers, thread, and other things to prevent infection. Fluffies, for all their faults, had a rather quick healing factor, but still were susceptible to all the usual things that regular animals were.

It was this last thought that reminded him of something. He’d also acquired, while he was out, a couple of tubes of an substance called “Fix-A-Fluff.” It was an antibiotic cream designed to both keep out infection, as well as accelerate healing. It smelled….slightly like a newborn baby pony. Giovanni suspected it was likely made from harvested fluffy stem cells, and other genetic material, though how they acquired it he didn’t care to ponder. All that mattered that this sort of mad scientist sorcery would be used to his advantage.

Moving quickly, he quickly sliced a square of brown fluff from the donor, causing it to scream, despite it's severed voicebox. "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..........." It managed. "Shut the fuck up." Giovanni said quietly.

Soon, he had a nice, one inch square of flesh and skin that he could work with. Then, moving quickly, he cut out the exact flap size from the honey colored bastard in the middle of his back, pulling out the mass of fluff.

The foal peeped wildly, tears staining it's yellowish gold face. "So, you want to be a bestest babbeh...." Giovanni said as he carefully set the square of brown fluff in the back. "You think you are such hot shit, don’t you? Let's see how you feel when you've got a nice set of streakmarks on you.”

Giovanni quickly pulled off the piece of fluff, causing the foal to peep as loudly as possible, as air hit the exposed muscle and tissue. Placing it on the cutting board, he pulled the donor piece off of the brown foal and more or less made sure to line up the two pieces perfectly.

Using a fine thread, Giovanni quickly knitted the two hides together, before disinfecting the wounds again, causing the foal to again thrash in agony, as the “Fix-A-Fluff” stung and burned into the mass of exposed and new nerves. Then, almost as if it were an afterthought, Giovanni placed a couple of spurts of aloe vera on the back, to help with the healing.

Giovanni repeated the process five more times, causing the foal to screech each time until his voice became hoarse from the screaming. Then, likely from the pain, the honey colored bestest babbeh fainted. Giovanni stopped to check. He was still breathing, but he needed to hurry.

To protect from infection, he wrapped the foal in gauze. He covered the top of a tupperware with a blanket, and then left a small bottle of formula for the foal to suckle on for comfort. "Hopefully, those patches will take by morning." He said with a grin. The honey colored foal, now mutilated, only silently sobbed before grasping onto the fake nipple and drinking.

“Haaaa…..haaa…….” Giovanni heard the sound of labored breathing. Oh, that was right. He turned to look at the brown foal, which was twitching in agony from the exposed patch of flesh and muscle in it's back. "Yeah, I'm done with you." Giovanni replied. "I can always get another donor foal, if I decide to try this again. Still, you might have some usefulness, thought.."

Taking the foal, he quickly carried it over to the kitchen, where he shoved it inside of a blender. Then, for good measure, he also tossed in the chunk of skin removed from the honey colored foal. Waste not, want not, he supposed. The pathetic creature pawed against it's glass prison, begging for its release. "Sorry. Tough old world out there for a brown foal." Giovanni said with a grin. "But on the bright side, you at least had a purpose."

Giovanni hit blend, and soon, the blades of the industrial strength blender tore the foal apart, turning bones, muscle, and organs into a thick, red slush. The red mist covered the glass sides of the pitcher, but Giovanni could still make out the vague facial expressions of the horrified dying creature before the blades tore it apart. Soon, a couple of quick cracks, and the head exploded upon hitting the blades, sending an eyeball and brain piece flying near the top of the lid.

Satisfied, it was time for his next task. Giovanni got an old pan, poured in some olive oil, and poured in the mixture. He smiled, seeing some small strands of golden fluff could still be made out as he browned the mixture. He made sure to add the basic seasonings, and some old Ragu that was in his fridge. Then, after setting a pot of pasta to boil, he soon had enough for two helpings of homemade spaghetti.


Melody awoke slowly,, feeling the effects of the anesthesia wearing off. "Wewe....wewe am mummah?"

She found herself in the closet, with Pickle sitting with the three remaining foals, as they were watching FluffTV’s YouTube channel. Only Pickle could actually watch it, but the foals seemed to enjoy the audio, occasionally chirping happily. "Babbehs? Babbehs! Cum dwink bestest miwk...oh...."

Melody looked down to see her now flat abdomen, and feeling the dull ache of knitting flesh and muscle, as she began to heal from her impromptu surgery. "It otay, Mewody! Pickwe made suwe tu gif babbehs miwkies fwom miwkie stay-shawn!" Pickle tried to assure her.

Melody narrowed her eyes. "Oh. Dat am...dat am gud." She said, without any emotion. She put her head back down, wincing at the pain from her wounds. Still, she held her gaze at her foals, and the green stallion currently nuzzling them. She felt something stir within her. Something evil.

Giovanni opened the door. "Oh look, you two are awake. How would you like to have some of the best thing for healing fluffies to eat: sketties."

Pickle and Melody were eccastatic. "Weawwy! Nebbah hab sketties befow!" Giovanni smiled, his shark tooth smiled slightly unnerving Pickle as it grew wider. Melody, not knowing Giovanni’s nature, wasn’t fazed. "Of course. This is a special occasion. Come on over and let's eat."

"Yus!" Pickle yelled. Melody began to move and surprisingly found herself able to walk. She and Pickle followed Giovanni, while the foals continued to chirp mindlessly along with the song.

"Fank 'ou, daddeh." Melody said. "Dis wiww make bestest miwkies fo' babbehs!"

Pickle looked at her sadly. "Ummm, Mewody....nu hab mikwie pwaces nu mowe, wemembah?"

The mare began to bawl. "Nuuuuu! Miwkie pwaces, nu can make bestest miwkies nu mowe!" She fell down into a heap, chirping slightly as she landed on her bandages.

Giovanni, in the corner, smiled, as he ate his own separate bowl of pasta, the meat sauce made from a different pan than the one given to the ponies.

"Bon appetit." Giovanni said, saluting the two ponies as he drank from a glass of red wine. He'd had enough abuse for today. He had to be up early anyhow for his shift.


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Anonymous1: Very fun story. So many people forget to leave the skin flaps during amputations and stretching the skin to cover such a gap just leads to popped stitches!

Im also fascinated by the Fix a Fluff substance and would love to write a story about how a substance like it is harvested from foal stem cells (with your blessing ofcourse since its your idea, if not I understand)

Can't wait to read the next chapter of accidental breeder please keep up the good work!
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Researcher_7201: Anonymous1 is me sorry did not see I was logged out
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WestMesaFluffCollector: @Researcher_7201: Have at it. Its not THAT original of an idea. Hugboxing_Faggot, Gardel, and I believe deathproofpony all have something similar.
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Gardel: Yeah mine is the Miwacwe-Fix gel made from liquefied chirpie foals. I figure that With fluffies being so disposable and fragile at the same time a product like this is likely to exist. It also taps into the whole lifeform-as-a-product trope of fluffies, part-biopunk part-"is just a fucking fluffy just glue it together and it will work" since in this universe I don't think anyone would pay surgery-money for a biotoy they got from a vending machine.

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Hugboxing_Faggot: My characters have used potent salves and "glues" that accelerate healing, but I never went into detail. Various kinds of enhanced milk is more of my thing.

Speaking of milk, may I make a suggestion?

The red and yellow one get regular formula, right? How about turning it into cheap, tainted bootleg formula with all sorts of nasty side effects?

There's this really nasty thing called shope papilloma virus that infects rabbits and causes wart-like cancerous growths that keep growing.


Imagine poor little babbehs that turn into munstahs because the bad mummah gave them bad miwkies. Not only will they suffer greatly from the painful tumors that grow out of their orifices, but you can also gaslight Melody into thinking she gave the red one bad milk as well, making this all her fault. The formula being nutrient deficient so they get brittle bones would be fun as well.

Anyway, good story so far.
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Gardel: @Hugboxing_Faggot: holy shit that virus is metal af, it also explains the old jackalope myth.

As for the bootleg milk, I do have artificial GMO fluffy milk in my stories, its made from bacteria with fluffy DNA that makes the milk (cheaper than milkbags) but the quality is obviously shit.

Still I bet IRL bootleg fluffy milk will be chock full of melamine like it happened in china which killed a whole bunch of babies.
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WestMesaFluffCollector: @Hugboxing_Faggot: That actually sounds absolutely fucking brutal. I love it.

The yellow (honey) colored foal has his own set of torture planned, I will definitely use it for the red one. The next part, funnily enough, does have the first steps of their...conditions...emerging. Should be fun.

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fiddwe: Yesssss, I love this one !!!!
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Anonymous2: We need a gif of the fluffy being thrown gracefully off the bridge. I particularly like the idea of seeing it spiraling perfectly to its doom.

Also love the line with the tard fluffy arguing how it isnt a genius, it's a smarty.
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