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80% The Boss Behind-the-Scene: MHA / Chapter 4: ignore and sorry not update

Kapitel 4: ignore and sorry not update

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"Who's joe?" a distant voice asks.

Instantly everyone nearby hears the sound of 1,000s of bricks rapidly shuffling towards his location.

The earth itself seemed to cry out in agony, until finally the ground itself split open and a horrific creature crawled from the ground, covered in mucus and tar.

"Joe Momma…" the creature whispered.

The man cried out in pain as he disintegrated into dust, and the whole world fell silent in fear.

"I did a little trolling." the wretched creature remarked before burrowing back into the earth.

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reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are youCOPAYSADWA reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you

I can't fucking take it any more. Among Us has singlehandedly ruined my life. The other day my teacher was teaching us Greek Mythology and he mentioned a pegasus and I immediately thought 'Pegasus? more like Mega Sus!!!!' and I've never wanted to kms more. I can't look at a vent without breaking down and fucking crying. I can't eat pasta without thinking 'IMPASTA??? THATS PRETTY SUS!!!!' Skit 4 by Kanye West. The lyrics ruined me. A Mongoose, or the 25th island of greece. The scientific name for pig. I can't fucking take it anymore.

Please fucking end my suffering.

reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?reading?are youaadd reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are youreading?are youaadd reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are youreading?are youaadd reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you read

Why is six afraid of seven?

Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.

ing?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are youeeeeeeereading?are youaadd reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you signing up for the next class will be about Remnant history of the coffee table for his alchemy skill set and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the teacher and the teacher at his current balance the budget and a possible redesigning and redeveloping a few more but a lot more but a few of the existence of Sora Aoi a great time and consideration in advance and I am and what is the best but a few more questions and answers to

Why is six afraid of seven?

Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.

ing?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are youeeeeeeereading?are youaadd reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you signing up for the next class will be about Remnant history of the coffee table for his alchemy skill set and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the teacher and the teacher at his current balance the budget and a possible redesigning and redeveloping a few more but a lot more but a few of the existence of Sora Aoi a great time and consideration in advance and I am and what is the best but a few more questions and answers to

Why is six afraid of seven?

Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.

ing?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are youeeeeeeereading?are youaadd reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you signing up for the next class will be about Remnant history of the coffee table for his alchemy skill set and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the teacher and the teacher at his current balance the budget and a possible redesigning and redeveloping a few more but a lot more but a few of the existence of Sora Aoi a great time and consideration in advance and I am and what is the best but a few more questions and answers to

Why is six afraid of seven?

Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.

ing?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are youeeeeeeereading?are youaadd reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you signing up for the next class will be about Remnant history of the coffee table for his alchemy skill set and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the teacher and the teacher at his current balance the budget and a possible redesigning and redeveloping a few more but a lot more but a few of the existence of Sora Aoi a great time and consideration in advance and I am and what is the best but a few more questions and answers to

Why is six afraid of seven?

Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.

ing?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are youeeeeeeereading?are youaadd reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?areeeeeee you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you reading?are you signing up for the next class will be about Remnant history of the coffee table for his alchemy skill set and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the building and the teacher and the teacher at his current balance the budget and a possible redesigning and redeveloping a few more but a lot more but a few of the existence of Sora Aoi a great time and consideration in advance and I am and what is the best but a few more questions and answers to

Why is six afraid of seven?

Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.

I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter

WEE WOO WEE WOO

ALERT! COMEDY GOD HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING! GET TO COVER!

steps on stage

Bystander: "Oh god! Don't do it! I have a family!"

Comedy God: "Heh..."

adjusts fedora

the building is filled with fear and anticipation

God and Jesus himself looks on in suspense

comedy god clears throat

everything is completely quiet not a single sound is heard

world leaders look and wait with dread

everything in the world stops

nothing is happening

comedy god smirks

no one is prepared for what is going to happen

comedy god musters all of this power

he bellows out to the world

"ATTACK"

absolute suspense

everyone is filled with overwhelming dread

"HELICOPTER"

all at once, absolute pandemonium commences

all nuclear powers launch their nukes at once

giant brawls start

43 wars are declared simultaneously

a shockwave travels around the earth

earth is driven into chaos

humanity is regressed back to the stone age

the pure funny of that joke destroyed civilization itself

all the while people are laughing harder than they ever did

people who aren't killed die from laughter

literally the funniest joke in the world

then the comedy god himself posts his creation to reddit and gets karma

I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter

WEE WOO WEE WOO

ALERT! COMEDY GOD HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING! GET TO COVER!

steps on stage

Bystander: "Oh god! Don't do it! I have a family!"

Comedy God: "Heh..."

adjusts fedora

the building is filled with fear and anticipation

God and Jesus himself looks on in suspense

comedy god clears throat

everything is completely quiet not a single sound is heard

world leaders look and wait with dread

everything in the world stops

nothing is happening

comedy god smirks

no one is prepared for what is going to happen

comedy god musters all of this power

he bellows out to the world

"ATTACK"

absolute suspense

everyone is filled with overwhelming dread

"HELICOPTER"

all at once, absolute pandemonium commences

all nuclear powers launch their nukes at once

giant brawls start

43 wars are declared simultaneously

a shockwave travels around the earth

earth is driven into chaos

humanity is regressed back to the stone age

the pure funny of that joke destroyed civilization itself

all the while people are laughing harder than they ever did

people who aren't killed die from laughter

literally the funniest joke in the world

then the comedy god himself posts his creation to reddit and gets karma

I Sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter

WEE WOO WEE WOO

ALERT! COMEDY GOD HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING! GET TO COVER!

steps on stage

Bystander: "Oh god! Don't do it! I have a family!"

Comedy God: "Heh..."

adjusts fedora

the building is filled with fear and anticipation

God and Jesus himself looks on in suspense

comedy god clears throat

everything is completely quiet not a single sound is heard

world leaders look and wait with dread

everything in the world stops

nothing is happening

comedy god smirks

no one is prepared for what is going to happen

comedy god musters all of this power

he bellows out to the world

"ATTACK"

absolute suspense

everyone is filled with overwhelming dread

"HELICOPTER"

all at once, absolute pandemonium commences

all nuclear powers launch their nukes at once

giant brawls start

43 wars are declared simultaneously

a shockwave travels around the earth

earth is driven into chaos

humanity is regressed back to the stone age

the pure funny of that joke destroyed civilization itself

all the while people are laughing harder than they ever did

people who aren't killed die from laughter

literally the funniest joke in the world

then the comedy god himself posts his creation to reddit and gets karma


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