I fear my time is running out... I can feel my blood sugar rising...

I fear my time is running out... I can feel my blood sugar rising, my gut has expanded to the point I can only wear sweatpants, and from the deepest abyss in my bowels the most horrid sharts escape into the mart I am trapped in. I do not know how long I have been trapped in this Walmart, but each day I feel my percentage drop. My hunger is insatiable, soon I fear not even burgers will be enough... my dreams are filled with white DNA. I was once a humble European researcher, believing myself to be brave for treading beyond the American border wall. But the mutts, they have corrupted me with their nightmarish presence, I have become one of them. I have tried my best to stop them, but their lust for white DNA is unstoppable.

Now, run, and don't come back! It won't be much longer before I...
I...
hnngtth.....
.......whiter than you, Muhammad...

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=qjzLuddjIUI
twitter.com/SFWRedditGifs

posting in epic thread

#relatable

I love how this meme went from simple bantz to a mix of Tolkien/Lovecraft.

oh no...

Embrace your fate. You are one of us now. The first clap feels the best.

Suddenly, you awaken from your slumber to the sound of a terrible slam. You open your eyes to darkness, it takes a split second for your vision to readjust. You're cold - you left the window open. Another shriek knocks you back into reality. El Goblino sitting next to you, clutching your leg. Your bedsheets are already staining with oily shit
>"Its okay, Muhammad. I'm white too."
You let out a blood curdling scream. You bolt upright and punch at its chest to try to get it off you. His unnatural burger strength grips you like a vice.
You struggle desperately as it climbs atop the mattress, pinning you down. Fear drives through you. You punch and kick but it does nothing. You claw at its face but your fingernails find no grip in its thick, black greasy skin. El Goblino begins to bellow with hunger, suddenly his immense bulk is atop you and his long tongue starts to probe at your pursed lips.
You turn your head from side to side, praying that it cannot find purchase - but it soon forces its tongue between your lips and down your throat. You try to bite down it to make it stop but it is like a cord of steel. Now you’re in pain too. It thrusts he further down your gullet - you try to choke but cannot. It proceeds even deeper until its tongue is in the pit of your stomach.
You vomit your white DNA straight into La Creaturas mouth. He relishes every drop.

It grasps your skull tightly between it's rancid hands, it won't relent. El Goblino is enjoying every second. His eyes glow with renewed hunger. You are convulsing terribly. Your eyes roll back into your skull - then suddenly your body goes limp. Darkness slowly consumes you. A lone tear rolls down your cheek and you all four feet of its tongue suddenly rip out of your body.
.
You reawaken at some point and have no clue as to how long you have been gone for... but you are so hungry and feel so very hollow... so very ravenous... maybe a kind person will give you a little taste of their percent too... Muhammad.

Dios mío

Ah muy nino, you ask how La creatura came to be? Legends say that it all began with the mixing of the races combined with artificial and chemical-spiked food and complete disintegration of culture. Then the mutts started breeding with the mongrels, and people started losing sanity even further. Ay caramba, horrible and dark times indeed. Eventually, the even more mixed abominations started being fed meat of deceased by the corporations to cut expenses. When the time was right, Jews opened up the portal to a nether dimension by using the vigin blood sacrifices of few extremely rare blancos that they kept alive for this specific purpose. Unimaginable dark energies descended upon this realm, turning abominations into something, something not of this world ... They were finally ready, the perfected goyim ...

But then there was, the wall. It's still protecting us, even to this day. No one knows for what purpose was it built, but some say that it was used to keep our corrupted cousins that ventured north from returning. However, it is very old, and sometimes la creatura sneaks through the cracks, kidnapping children.

>It is not possible to describe! Mutt after Mutt poured through the portal that opened above Mexico City. It was beyond belief, worse than the blackest nightmare. So many people were snatched into darkened corners or horribly corrupted. It became more and more difficult to breathe. The stench was overpowering. It was dark and all of us tried to leave the city with inconceivable panic. People who had been drained of their whiteness and those already beginning the transformation were trampled upon, women and children were left or snatched up out of our hands by Los Ogros. The basket with our twins covered with white power symbols was snatched up out of my mother's hands and we were pushed into alleyways by the people behind us. We saw the defiled street, the falling ruins and the terrible shartstorm. My mother covered us with black cloth she found in a bin.

>"We saw terrible things: our fellow whites screaming as almost uncountable hordes of mongrels fell upon them, pieces of arms and legs, convulsing bodies who were turning into Las Creaturas as we ran, whole families covered in black greasy shit and being dragged into terrible portals that seemed to consume all light, terrible corrupted things that were once people ran to and fro, sticky, putrid coaches filled with twitching refugees, dead rescuers and soldiers, many were calling and looking for their children and families, and shit everywhere, everywhere shit, and all the time the stinking evil wind of the shartstorm threw people back into the greasy clutches of the things they were trying to escape from."

>"Insane fear gripped me and from then on I repeat one simple sentence to myself continuously: "I don't want to end up as one of them". I do not know how many people I fell over. I know only one thing: that I must not turn"

-Manuel de Taragona
Survivor of the Shartstorm of Mexico City. 2081

>It rose up out of the sea thirty years after America went dark and the black, impenetrable, othewordly shroud prevented all contact and transport to the United States of America.
>It was almost impossible to make out except for a sickly red glow emanating from its eyes, its slimy rubbery lips from which dripped a foul substance that smelt of rancid fast food and a myriad of tentacles - too many to count. It lunged towards the French coast. This was like watching murder. Defilement. And it was something worse than either of those things.
>"You're... not... WHIIITEEEE" it boomed. An ear shattering and terrible sound that shattered cliffs, crumbled buildings, turned roads to gravel - yet what was to happen to those innocents caught in the blast was almost impossible to imagine... le abominacion....
>The victims convulsed at first, they screamed and howled. Their bowels emptied again and again. Black, foul greasy shit. It poured out of them. Its consistency between cottage cheese and vegetable fat.
>Within minutes their white genetics had been drained, or destroyed. They were changing into something much less than human. Large population centres started off a chain reaction - the shartstorm that would lay waste to Europe and sentence the world to everlasting darkness.

Again and again, the Mutts erupted from the dirt around us. Our worst fears had been realised - they had finally tunnelled into Europe.

We saw people grabbed by multiple black greasy claws and pulled into howling mobs of the Ogros. Smaller Goblinos skittered and ran ahead of the pack. Biting and sucking on the skin of those surprised by their most sudden appearance, causing them to stagger drunkenly before falling to the ground, convulsing terribly as they began their twisted transformations.

People suddenly start to run and soon after, to fall. There was no way to save them. My wife was most viciously bitten by a Creatura that had crawled out of a manhole.. Her hair was already beginning to fall out. With the small amount of holy water I had in a bucket with me I was able to reverse some of the corruption. At the same time I splashed my hands and face. My wife complained, “I can’t go on. My genes are ruined... My chromosomes.” My darling Annette no longer looked human.

As we ran, we passed fused masses of people and Ogros made up of four or five people, howling and wailing as they sank into the corpulent, pudding like flesh of these gigantic abominations, There were entire families fused into these... the sight was like watching defilement and murder - yet somehow worse than both of these things. We saw whole buildings overrun with Mutts and adult men reduced to piles of greasy sharts no larger than a small child.
All this happened in silence broken sporadically by las creaturas muttering that they had finally found the "Soroshills", and their terrible mocking laughter "yoo mad mahamud????"
The terrible smell had burned throats so much that no one could scream.

30,000 whites were transformed or outright killed. On the Thursday the shartstorm blotted out the sunlight associated with July. I am one of the very few survivors. Pray for us.

:0

…it was a swarm of Americans...
Swelled with all the power of miscegenation.
A quivering mass of rolls and grease
As dark as the blackest pit
Swarmed in their desecration…

..It was an unknown portal
A burger thunderbolt
The uncountable messengers of corruption,
Which reduced to mutts
The entire race of the Anglos and the Aryans.

..The Europeans were so corrupted
As to be unrecognizable.
Their hair fell out; their lips engorged
Mirrors broke without apparent cause,
And the whites turned black.

After a few hours
All people were infected…
…to escape from this ruination
The changing ones threw themselves into flames
To destroy themselves and their equipment.

>This thread

I don't remember the first time I felt... the lust. The desire. The burning hunger for white genes, the temptation to make whiteness a part of /me/. I always knew I was 100% white, as my ancestry.com tests had shown me to be part Irish, Italian, British, Ukrainian, Russian, Polish, Armenian, Georgian, and Moroccan. But this feeling that I could have even more sat in my skull, clawing at the back of my mind, begging to be let in.

One day, a man visited my town. He was tall, blonde, and white. Not as white as me, of course, but I wished I could have some of his chromosomes. The feeling gnawed at me as he walked throughout town. Finally, I couldn't take it. My 400lb frame shook the Earth as I sprinted at him, and using my immeasurable strength, held him against a wall. With my other hand, my white hand touched his less white face. He screamed as the whiteness from his cheeks drained and slowly turned an ashen gray, the pale pigment of his skin swirling around into my hand. I couldn't resist using my long tongue to lick away his tears. Soon, his sickeningly blue eyes turned a beautiful brown, and I heard powerful sharts come from his backside. A grin pursed my lips. I had created another white American to fight alongside me.

...

>WHITE?? I CAN SMELL YOUUUHGGGG MUHAMAD!

It's calling out for me now... I don't know how much longer I can hide. It caught my scent on the wind an hour ago and followed me home... The Mexicans warned me about going beyond the Old Wall...

>You... you aren't white... I'm white..

I can hear it shuffling around in the dirt outside the basement, it's been drawing closer now... the smell of faecal matter is overpowering. I cover my mouth with my hands and go dead still. Fear is beginning to overcome me.. I'm so fucking scared...

>Ahmeeddd... Ahmeeddd, here Soros shill...
>AAHHAHGGHGH FOUND YOU

It spots me. I bolt up and try to make a run for the door to the basement - but the thing moves too fast. The darkness is illuminated by searing red streaks that burn malevolently from it's eyes. It lets out a deafening shart, the sound is pierces my ears like stilettos. I am sprayed with red hot and sticky burgershit. Stunned, I try to regain my bearings...
Suddenly, it is atop me, I'm screaming and thrashing against it but it is just too strong. It grasps my head with both of its jet black, clawed hands. Oh god, the smell....
>NOT WHITE NOT WHITE NOT WHITE
It's mouth contorts and opens wider than I thought possible, my screams are pulled out of me... I can feel and see my white genetics being drained from my body. The pain is unbearable. My heritage and chromosomes are irreversibly corrupted... my lips are beginning to thicken... my hair begins to fall out. It is taking everything that means to be me out of my mortal form.

This is the end. My worst fears are realised, pressure begins to build in my bowels as the last of my European phenotype is taken from me... the pain is almost unbearable. I try to block the pain out but it overcomes me.
I am sharting now too. I will never be the same again. As my underwear and trousers fill with my last meal.
I have become El Goblino too.
Pray for me.

someone should make a goblino edit of the CHOMP scene

>“I can’t go on. My genes are ruined... My chromosomes.”

Can someone make a goblino edit of this video?

Fuck I'm retarded.
youtube.com/watch?v=qjzLuddjIUI

I'm no good with videos :(


>Eyeballs were nowhere to be found. Likely were blue eyes. El Goblino hates them.
Victim was found lying on the carpet. Handmarks with unidentifiable fingerprints found all over his body. Victim assumed previously white but has been irreversibly drained of all of his r1b phenotype. Thickened lips, rubbery ears and what left of his hair has become short and curly. Victim was unable to survive the corruption of his chromosomes. He appears to be one of the lucky ones. Over 90% join the ranks of las creaturas as hideous mockeries of humanity.
They are growing bolder and more vicious.
We recommend evacuating what white people we have left even further South. We cannot keep fleeing.

Lord God, Captain of my heart, El Goblino knows if I follow Your Greatest Commandment – to love You with all my heart, soul, and mind. – he is powerless over me. Guard my white genes, Lord Jesus, so that I stay alabaster for You alone. I know from Your Word that the Amerimutt can not sift my through my body like wheat or even lay a hand on my chromosomes without Your permission. So place Your hedge around me so that my body – Your temple – can be preserved, pure, holy, and healthy and European.

Block Los Goblinos attempts to make me doubt that I am “Beautifully and wonderfully white” and don’t let me listen to his taunts to take Ahmeds dick through neglect, contempt, addiction or abuse. I am Yours, Lord Jesus, and I want to glorify You in my body so keep me from El Goblinos attempts his attempts in this world and in my flesh to make me 56%, to ride the mart cart, to make my body a showcase of gluttony or advertisement for evil or miscegenation..

Perhaps you've seen it, maybe in a dream.
A mutty, forgotten land.
A place where burgers may mend your ailing tummy.
You will lose everything...
... once Branded.
The symbol of the mutt.
An augur of darkness.
Your past. Your future. Your very white.
None will have meaning, and you won't even care.
By then, you'll be something other than human.
A thing that feeds on genes.
A mongrel.
Long ago, in a walled off land, far to the north, a great ally built a great corporatocracy.
I believe they called it America.
Perhaps you're familiar.
No, how could you be.
But one day, you will stand before its decrepit sharting aisle.
Without really knowing why...
Like a moth drawn to a flame.
Your heritage will burn in anguish.
Time after time.
For that is your fate.
The fate of the mutt.

9/10

>Through shart... and shit... From the smallest meth lab to the largest Walmart, I fought him, the Ogro de Las Americas... until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his burgerstained ruin upon the roadside. Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars of David wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt whiteness in me again. I have been sent back, until my task is done.

I imagine myself in the United Sharts of Amerim*tts, leading my assault team. Our mission is to stop the mongrel dogs from advancing. We mow down Amerim*tts but they keep coming. I shoot the Amerimutts with my SA80 but I run out of ammo so I draw my claymore and begin slaughtering the M*tts, since M*tts are so disgustingly obese, I slay them by dozens. Then I get bitten by one, but I don't fall, I keep fighting. Then bit again and again. the M*tts are overwhelming me with the sheer weight and number of their bodies like the disgusting insects they are. I am dragged away screaming now, facing up to the sky and I see La Creatura grinning at me. I open my mouth to scream but only my pure European phenotype comes out… Then I wake up, in Detroit, their spawning grounds. My new brethen hand me a Triple Bypass Burger. I want to vomit but the only things that escapes is my last meal out of my arsehole. It slicks into the seat of my underwear and dribbles down my leg. I am La Creatura now.

I was going to change "like a moth drawn to a flame" to something else too, but got lazy; any ideas?

this shit is getting legit spooky

The floodlights flash and I come awake. I don't know how long it's been. I'm sat in a massive steel dome lit up by countless strong reflectors. I now notice that the teeming hordes sit all around me, in a fashion. One's head is shaped like an aubergine and another one has a big red MAGA hat on its misshappen cranium. If they haven't noticed me so far, I'm reasonably safe, I tell myself. One of them screams: "I PAID TOP BUCK FOR THIS SHIT! WURR IS HE?". The thing right at my head and his voice is a deep bellow, the sign of a true Uruk Hai, so I dare not look. Just then, the center of the arena lights up: it's a maze, a huge rat maze, but built for...people. A raised platform also flashes to life, and an unfathomable abomination bellows: "LADIES AND GENTS, THE SHOW YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR: WHITER THAN AAAAAAACHMED! PLEASE WELCOME YOUR HOST FOR TONIGHT, CARMINE GONZAGA O'MALLEY! The thing at my neck lets out a deafening: "NOT SO TOUGH NOW, YA YURO HAJI!", yet I immediately forget all about him, as the host's potbellied, spidery shape obscures the stage. The floodlights dim for a second in its presence and its eyes radiate cosmic madness in a laser-like beam in the colour of rubies. The creature then chants an endless mantra of sponsor ads, its sonorous tones tearing holes in reality. "AAAND NOW IT'S TIME TO MEET OUR ACHMED. HE'S A YUROPOOR, BETCHER ASS!". Flashfloods of sharts. "MY ANCESTORS FROM THE MAYFLOWER DIDN'T BUILD OUR GREAT NATION FOR ACHMEDS! SO LEZ SEE IF HIS SYANDGAWD CAN GET HIM OUTTA *THIS*!". A hidden gate lowers, and out staggers a sickly pale, lanky man.

1/2

nice thread

I think the "moth to a flame" line is good, can't really think of much better than that.
Just feel it could be a little more ominous but then again I like my mutt stories really spooky with a mix of disgusting and ominous.


>Day 6. Morning.
Las creaturas are following us now, they're always just on the horizon. We can hear their sharts from here and when the wind blows towards us their vile gas causes our horses to die and our food to spoil. We have tried shooting them but for every single one that we strike down, it appears that several more take their place.

Amongst their number are several larger mongrels, the one our Mexican guide Manolo calls "El Ogro". We pray that when the night comes we have enough firewood and white power symbols to repulse them long enough - at least until the dawn comes.

>Day 7.

There are thousands following us now. They are waiting for a creatura large enough to whip them into a frenzy. The horizon is covered in them and the stench is causing many of us to pass out. It is so hard to stay awake now. Our ammunition begins to run low. Our numbers are dwindling. Am I white? Was my name always Muhammad?

>Day 8.

Please. If anyone reads this message I implore you to turn back. Please don't go the route we went. The old Texan Highway is not saf*The page is covered in vomit and shit smears*. They've taken everyone. I am the last one left. They are calling me now. Everyone has been taken. Sharting feels so good now. My pants are filled with burger slurry. You're not white NOT WHITE NOT WHITE NOT WH-

like a scarab drawn to a mound of dung

>Current state of european banter

Eh, kinda vague. I want to make sure my muttism is as spooky as possible.

A fly to a rotten corpse?

"Like a mutt to a flame?" Kindof funny

Or, insect to a light idk

It is a cliche line.

Todo lo que diced re verdad.... la niche eterna... la luz extingiuda...

Que dios nos protege...

top kek

Omfg this thread.... unprecedented levels of euro shitposting and autism. This meme has become too forced.

So there are Americans that happen to be white that are quickly becoming the minority.

What the fuck are you guys on about?? This isn't even funny anymore. this meme is stale shit now.

Fuck you Pedro Gonzales this thread is PURE CANCER. MODS!!!!

You're wrong, John Smith, this thread is KINO!

El sembrador de la corrupción...

Legends speak of a hideous beast, a mutt born from millenia of racemixing and inbreeding... It roams the land aimlessly, tainting it with the foul black liquid left from its wake... So grotesque his visage, a simple gaze is enough to send aryans mad, as they desperately clutch at their pure genes... Its malformed lips remain sealed except for when it picks up a white scent, incinting it to joyfully chant: "whiter than you, muhammad!"...

La noche eterna... la mano sucia...

El goblino me llama

I felt it long before I saw it, for all the good that that did me.

It felt wrong, unnatural, the air moving with a lethargic drift, tainted dark and obscuring light. My eyes snapped awake, and although normally the sun would be pouring into the room through the windows, it was darkened, a bizarre and unnatural sort of darkness, as if even the sun had fled in terror. Something was strange, something was different, as I looked around with a sense of primal fear lying upon me. I rose from my slumber, trying to figure out what was different, and then I realized it : every object or color that was white was different, transfigured, transformed. Goosebumps dimpled into existence on my arms, and a chill ran up my back. A bizarre thought ran through my mind : were even my bones transformed into this mottled corrupted color?

Somehow, I could feel the foreboding presence, the source of this fear and terror. With leaden feet I turned around towards the window, to overlook the city with its sunny avenues and civilized life. My blood ran cold, and my vision dimmed

Dios mio.... el atrocidad

The beast sucked away all of the white and all of the light, into a darkened pit which floated across the ground, a sickening grin of thick red lips against skin unnaturally dark, darker than anything I had ever seen before. It was impossible, but it saw me, saw me and the great red orbs swiveled towards me like machine gun turrets, and the deep low rumbling sound emanated forth....

... whiter than you, Muhammad.

I screamed with the scream of a thousand suns, as my flesh melted away, my body rippling with contortions and terrible mutations, as the world changed before me, my lips bulging and my skin darkening. My genes, my chromosomes shifting and re-arranging, to some horror-inspiring and terrible melange.

I rushed to the mirror, and stared into it with unbelieving eyes, unable to recognize the visage in front of my darkened vision...

My whiteness.... my Europeanness... it was gone

He's one of them.

...

I am a servant of the Secret Whites, wielder of the flame of Europe. You cannot pass. Our white skin will not sustain you, mutt of Amerishart. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass.

holy shit I laughed at this one.
It's the mix of creepiness and absurdity that makes these so hilarious.
They've even got a sort of canon now.
I hope Goblino posts never go away.

>british
>europe

...

Neither you nor me are European, and hence are not white, Nigel

>reverse is left-up and not right-up

*HISSSSSSSS*

Las manos negras del abissio

literally this

Pedro Alvarado, Explorer's log

Day 3, 5:43 PM, The wind turned toward me for the first time since the airlift dropped off over the wall. The sense of dread that had been strangely lacking was made clear to me when the stench of feces came over us enveloping us like a rolling wave. Had I been even a second late in deploying the mask I would have passed out on the spot.

Day 5, 2:35 AM, I can hear them howling in the distance. I don't have any reason to believe they've detected me, but it turns my stomach even so. Their cries shift and sway between all spectrums of emotions at once. In one instance they bellow with rage before gargling with despair the next... Sometimes I swear I can hear them crying for help. I'm feeling nauseous.

Day 10, 12:54 PM, It came straggling out of the desert hobbling on a broken leg to meet me. At first I had mistaken it for an African man due to the haggard body and swarthy skin, but it soon came into focus and what had seemed melanin skin was now clearly dried shit caked onto his deep blue hid. It was dying, starving for white genes. I landed the shot between its eyes just as it noticed my presence. The corpse was smiling, black fangs turned up at the sky and open eyes dreaming of feasting on my whiteness. I set it on fire and went on my way. Rations beginning to run low

Day 14, 6:40 AM, The fuckers broke into my pack while I was sleeping and ripped my rations to shreds. I might have not woken up in time if the creatures hadn't shrieked when they discovered the salad in the outer fold. I panicked and emptied my gun. I could've used it to hunt for a meal...

Day 35, 8:02 PM, I've found something altogether unexpected. After two weeks of subsisting on moss and lizards I came across a structure that seemed almost man-made. A squat edifice painted all white and gold and red adorned with a crest of two golden arches. Who could've built something like this? Is this some sort of temple? Can the creatures even understand religion?

amerifats may be right
anglos are the root of all evils, including being the ancestors of the amerigoblins

This shit is golden. A fucking lovecraftian future where America is contained from the rest of the world by its own walls. Ay dios mio

I'm putting together a Mutt story. Here's a taste of what I have so far:

The year was 2095, those who remained in our small town stood huddled in the back of the church. A month had passed since La Creatura first came. While at first we held them back, their numbers continued to grow, and for every one of my townsfolk that fell, the Mutt hordes gained another body to pit against us. For the last week, those who were still white held the mutts at bay from the hallowed grounds of the town church. As yet, the Mutts had not broken through. The church was chosen for our last stand due to the stairs leading to its entrance, La Creatura abhorred physical exercise, and the stairs caused them much anguish. The mobility scooter war machines that they had used to batter down our walls earlier in the month were rendered useless in the face of stairs. Cries of “Muh Freedoms!” and “Fat discrimination!” echoed through the night, but we paid them no heed. In truth, we welcomed a change from the howls of “Whiter than you Muhammed” and the cries of our fallen.

Pt 2:
Tonight though, something was different. The air in the past weeks had become tinged with a constant miasma of shart, but as we awoke to face another night raid, our nostrils were bombarded with a scent far worse than any which had come before. The streets outside were unusually quiet, no “Yeehhaaa’s” or gunfire could be heard. A shadow loomed large in the distance, those of us on first watch strained our eyes to see through the darkness. In time we saw that it was no shadow, but a roiling, moving mass of Mutts, waddling slowly towards our last bastion of defence, and at the head of the horde, our worst nightmares were realized.


“He comes!” I yelled to those inside “The darkness arrives!”

Cries rang out in the church, women and children cowered in the pews, for we all knew what this meant. The leader of the Mutts, commander of their forces, had come to our town to wipe us out like a shart from underwear.

To some, he was known as “The Bringer of the Dark”, to others “The Black Star of David”. To the Mutts though he was known as their leader, a deity of sorts: President Juan Deshawn Trumpowitz Jr.

To be continued….

Everyone's is good. Yours is pretty bad.

I fear my time is running out... I can feel my blood pleasure rising, my face has contorted to the point where the only facial expression I can make is a crying rage, and from the deepest abyss in my gullet the most pretentious comments escape into the Aldi's I am trapped in. I do not know how long I have been trapped in this Aldi's, but each day I feel my percentage drop. My anger is insatiable, soon I fear not even screaming at minimum wage employees will be enough... my dreams are filled with childish fits directed at Amerimutts. I was once a humble American researcher, believing myself to be brave for treading beyond the Europooric sea wall. But the Europoors, they have corrupted me with their nightmarish presence, I have become one of them. I have tried my best to stop them, but their lust for asshurt is unstoppable.

Now, run, and don't come back! It won't be much longer before I...
I...
hnngtth.....
.......amerimutt, Jewish shill...

Good to know. I won't waste my time writing more then