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El Pietron crouch-spammed so hard the Entity appeared as a floating jar of mayonnaise yelling “WHO STOLE MY CROCS?” The exit gates opened, but instead of escaping, Claudette rode a giant hotdog into the moon while Meg argued with a sentient flashlight about taxes. El Pietron escaped through a portal made of chicken nuggets. Would definitely touch grass after this.
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⢿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠄⠄⠄⢀⣀⣀⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⢿
⣿⣿⣿⡟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠐⢻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈
⣿⣿⣿⠃⠄⠄⠄⢀⠴⠛⠙⣿⣿⡿⣿⣦⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⠃⠄⢠⡖⠉⠄⠄⠄⣠⣿⡏⠄⢹⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠
⣿⠃⠄⠄⢸⣧⣤⣤⣤⢾⣿⣿⡇⠄⠈⢻⡆⠄⠄⠄⠄⣾
⠁⠄⠄⠄⠈⠉⠛⢿⡟⠉⠉⣿⣷⣀⠄⠄⣿⡆⠄⠄⢠⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⡿⠿⢿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠃⠄⠄⣸⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⡞⠄⠄⠄⠈⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢸⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣿⣿⡟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⣿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⠄⠄⠄⢀⡼⠛⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣼⣿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡇⠄⠄⢀⠎⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⢿⣿
This absolute joke of a survivor somehow lucked his way through the entire match. Dude probably lives in his mom’s basement with 5 monitors and a custom controller setup, sweating so hard I could feel it through the screen. He thinks he’s god-tier, but honestly, he’s just abusing broken game mechanics. 360’d me? Please, my mouse wasn’t even working right.
Chased him for 5 gens only because I wanted to see how long he could keep up his little pallet circus. Guess what? I was holding back the entire time, letting him think he was doing something impressive. Then he has the nerve to stand at the exit gate, doing his little nod like he’s too cool to BM me. If this game wasn’t so broken, I would’ve wiped the floor with him. But nah, he gets carried by meta perks and no life.
Kid probably thinks he's hot stuff now, but let’s be real – next time he’ll get bodied. Stay lucky, scrub.