Let's get this thread to a million pages!

[Different]

They also told me that you were an experienced aircraft pilot. So, I need you to fly me to Dubai, pick up my dry cleaning, put on an apron, make me the world's finest pie (and a sandwich), fly me back to America, then fish out that beer that you were trying to throw away.

It'll give you a chance to get outta the house for once because I know you probably don't.

[Different]

Keep humoring me, bro. I got a thread coming up on this site that's never been done here before.

[dotime]

I wish on twitter that when you block someone it's like a ip ban and whatever account sign in on the same computer wouldnt be abled to see the person who blocked them or reply

[Mia]

You're literally throwing away the beer that you paid for lmfao!

The beer that I paid for? Sounds like you're already drunk.

[Mia]

They also told me that you were an experienced aircraft pilot. So, I need you to fly me to Dubai, pick up my dry cleaning, put on an apron, make me the world's finest pie (and a sandwich), fly me back to America, then fish out that beer that you were trying to throw away.

It'll give you a chance to get outta the house for once because I know you probably don't.

They told me that you were an engineer, so go build yourself a robot to do that stuff for you. Once you sober up, that is. We don't want the robot set on kill mode like the last 3 times.

[Different]

They told me that you were an engineer, so go build yourself a robot to do that stuff for you. Once you sober up, that is. We don't want the robot set on kill mode like the last 3 times.

Ha! They told me that you were a bodyguard and a chauffeur. So, every time we visit a dangerous city like New Orleans, you're going to take a stray bullet for me. Also, you'll be taking me to the Super Bowl as well. So, get some spring into your step and buy two front row tickets for $6k each ($12k coming out of your life's savings). Of course you'll have plenty of time to bulk up in the gym by then. I need you at 240-245lbs by then 😂

[Different]

The beer that I paid for? Sounds like you're already drunk.

Yeah. Late night with a bunch of hot girls and stuff. You'll need to clean up after me since you're responsible for me.

[Mia]

Yeah. Late night with a bunch of hot girls and stuff. You'll need to clean up after me since you're responsible for me.

You mean 3 hot girls and 2 hot guys? I hate to break it to you, but those twins weren't girls. Sounds like you were too drunk to tell.

[Different]

You mean 3 hot girls and 2 hot guys? I hate to break it to you, but those twins weren't girls. Sounds like you were too drunk to tell.

Are you a liquor drinker? Have you ever had any liquor before?

[Mia]

Ha! They told me that you were a bodyguard and a chauffeur. So, every time we visit a dangerous city like New Orleans, you're going to take a stray bullet for me. Also, you'll be taking me to the Super Bowl as well. So, get some spring into your step and buy two front row tickets for $6k each ($12k coming out of your life's savings). Of course you'll have plenty of time to bulk up in the gym by then. I need you at 240-245lbs by then 😂

That's not what happened, it sounds like you have your information incorrect. I'm not surprised. You were so plastered, you could barely tell your left foot from your right foot. Let me help refresh your memory. There you were in your shop, drunk as usual. Probably working on one of your new robots. When some 6'2" blonde bombshell named Natalie came in. She was wearing an elegant red dress and Prada pumps. You can't believe your eyes. You huff on your glasses, and put them back on. Yep, still a blonde bombshell. "Excuse me sir, do you know where the nearest mall is?" She asks in a French accent. "Sure, if you go 6 blocks south of here, you should see one on your left." you say, looking flustered. She responds, "Hey, thanks a lot. Have fun with your girl robots", then leaves.

[Mia]

Are you a liquor drinker? Have you ever had any liquor before?

I don't drink

[Different]

That's not what happened, it sounds like you have your information incorrect. I'm not surprised. You were so plastered, you could barely tell your left foot from your right foot. Let me help refresh your memory. There you were in your shop, drunk as usual. Probably working on one of your new robots. When some 6'2" blonde bombshell named Natalie came in. She was wearing an elegant red dress and Prada pumps. You can't believe your eyes. You huff on your glasses, and put them back on. Yep, still a blonde bombshell. "Excuse me sir, do you know where the nearest mall is?" She asks in a French accent. "Sure, if you go 6 blocks south of here, you should see one on your left." you say, looking flustered. She responds, "Hey, thanks a lot. Have fun with your girl robots", then leaves.

Lmfao! 😂 I forgot you were a fantastic storyteller. Well, the only thing is that I was drunk during the party, but that's it. You still gotta take me to the Super Bowl, remember? I told you to stay off that weed because it's messing with your memory. Damn, Natalie is 6'2? 👀 Tall girl 🤔 The part about you being a bodyguard and chauffeur is actually true; same thing with Natalie (somewhat). You see, Natalie is actually my side piece. So, she just comes along whenever I need someone to hook up with who's got a thick rack and a fat 🍑 ass.

I'd like to invite you to the next TedTalk to give your presentation about how someone can learn the art of storytelling. Of course you'll need to polish my shoes and walk the dog, first. Hopefully that'll jog your memory back home and detox you from smoking too much weed.

[Mia]

I don't smoke either, never done any kind of drugs, illegal or recreational. Only prescription

[Mia]

Lmfao! 😂 I forgot you were a fantastic storyteller. Well, the only thing is that I was drunk during the party, but that's it. You still gotta take me to the Super Bowl, remember? I told you to stay off that weed because it's messing with your memory. Damn, Natalie is 6'2? 👀 Tall girl 🤔 The part about you being a bodyguard and chauffeur is actually true; same thing with Natalie (somewhat). You see, Natalie is actually my side piece. So, she just comes along whenever I need someone to hook up with who's got a thick rack and a fat 🍑 ass.

I'd like to invite you to the next TedTalk to give your presentation about how someone can learn the art of storytelling. Of course you'll need to polish my shoes and walk the dog, first. Hopefully that'll jog your memory back home and detox you from smoking too much weed.

So there we were in Berlin, trying to find some lost artifact you dropped there back in 2014. It happened during one of your many hazy nights of binge drinking and hitting on uncomfortable women. Suddenly, two men dressed in all black ambushed you, threw a bag on your head, smacked you with a baseball bat, and threw you into a limo. I couldn't even react in time cause I was too busy laughing at a humorous video on my cellular device. Then suddenly, there was a note flying out of the limo and landed by my feet. "If you want your friend back, beat us at Candyland on PR2. Otherwise his head will be sent to your address by mail." Confident in my many years of playing Candyland, I thought this would be no trouble at all. It was a few hours later that I realized, this was my ex-best friend. He always beat me at everything. "His account is still rank 20, I have nothing to worry about!" I thought to myself. Fast forward to 2 nights later. I was on the Carina server with nobody but him, his 2 lackeys, and someone else's 4 rank 60+ macro accounts. "Well his lackeys are rank 28 and 31, surely I can beat them too!" Then I look on the Campaign. I couldn't believe my eyes. Those rank 60+ accounts weren't someone macroing, those were my ex-best friend and his lackey's accounts! I was only rank 22, how was I going to beat these punks? Realizing I had little to no shot of winning this race, I did something drastic. I stopped my macro on the Derron server and logged into my rank 76 account. Now it is I who had the upper hand! I have to imagine they were trembling in fear, quaking in their boots. They were such wusses, they didn't even want to race me. For I am the great Platform Racing 2. I am literally the name of the game, and you know that no one ever beats the game at itself. That's when I received a PM that read as follows: "The race is off, you can have your drunk friend back." Good thing my high rank scared them off. Little did they know, I am actually a terrible racer. So when you say you heard I am a bodyguard and chauffer, that's only because of that one random night where I saved you in Berlin.

[Different]

So there we were in Berlin, trying to find some lost artifact you dropped there back in 2014. It happened during one of your many hazy nights of binge drinking and hitting on uncomfortable women. Suddenly, two men dressed in all black ambushed you, threw a bag on your head, smacked you with a baseball bat, and threw you into a limo. I couldn't even react in time cause I was too busy laughing at a humorous video on my cellular device. Then suddenly, there was a note flying out of the limo and landed by my feet. "If you want your friend back, beat us at Candyland on PR2. Otherwise his head will be sent to your address by mail." Confident in my many years of playing Candyland, I thought this would be no trouble at all. It was a few hours later that I realized, this was my ex-best friend. He always beat me at everything. "His account is still rank 20, I have nothing to worry about!" I thought to myself. Fast forward to 2 nights later. I was on the Carina server with nobody but him, his 2 lackeys, and someone else's 4 rank 60+ macro accounts. "Well his lackeys are rank 28 and 31, surely I can beat them too!" Then I look on the Campaign. I couldn't believe my eyes. Those rank 60+ accounts weren't someone macroing, those were my ex-best friend and his lackey's accounts! I was only rank 22, how was I going to beat these punks? Realizing I had little to no shot of winning this race, I did something drastic. I stopped my macro on the Derron server and logged into my rank 76 account. Now it is I who had the upper hand! I have to imagine they were trembling in fear, quaking in their boots. They were such wusses, they didn't even want to race me. For I am the great Platform Racing 2. I am literally the name of the game, and you know that no one ever beats the game at itself. That's when I received a PM that read as follows: "The race is off, you can have your drunk friend back." Good thing my high rank scared them off. Little did they know, I am actually a terrible racer. So when you say you heard I am a bodyguard and chauffer, that's only because of that one random night where I saved you in Berlin.

You overlooked one thing: you've been trying to keep your identity confidential so I wouldn't know that you are actually the manipulative aircraft pilot who flew us to Berlin with an excessive amount of liquor boxes and an overpowered laptop. I thought we were going to Dubai, but I guess you wanted to surprise me with Berlin instead. I didn't tell you that before the party started, I had a chat with UnknownAX. We've spent 5 nights at Freddy's devising a plan to give you the illusion that you thought you were racing your ex-best friends, when in reality you were racing UnknownAX and his AI bots at rank 60. He sat there and laughed uncontrollably, as you thought you had the victory with Rank 76 to become victorious in Candyland. But, then suddenly a power outage occurs, shuts down Pr2, and erases your Rank 76 back to zero; you are the only one affected. You become so frustrated that you quit Pr2 and asked me for a job because I was the only one who could save you from a life of meaningless. Without Pr2, there was nothing else for you to live for. By the time you realized that the guy who you thought was me that you saved in Berlin was actually a clone... I had already wrote out a schedule for you to fulfill your duties as a cook, aircraft pilot, chauffeur, and a bodyguard. You were so devastated when you finally realized that you were living vicariously through another man's life. This taught you a valuable lesson because reality stings like a bee, which led you to be more thankful for your job. Five minutes later I receive a phone call from the dry cleaners telling me that my dry cleaning is finally ready. You then fly us back to Dubai to pick up my dry cleaning, buy me some caviar, buy me some salmon, and then buy me some red wine. Your fantasy of being free as a bird was extirpated into a million pieces when you realized that you were actually living vicariously through UnknownAX's past life. We then laugh uncontrollably as you tuck your tail between your legs because you are now an employee of mine living in a fantasy world.

[Mia]

Why do you make me sound so pathetic and humiliated in your story?

[Mia]

Like, I had one sentence saying you're drunk and make women uncomfortable (and also said I was a rank 76 that's terrible at racing to even it out). Your whole story revolved around my life being in shambles

[Different]

Why do you make me sound so pathetic and humiliated in your story?

It was all a big joke. The whole idea was to find humor in someone getting humiliated for entertainment purposes only. That's why 2 days ago, I told you to humor me.

Like, I had one sentence saying you're drunk and make women uncomfortable (and also said I was a rank 76 that's terrible at racing to even it out). Your whole story revolved around my life being in shambles

That one statement you made about me making women uncomfortable, led me to think that - oh, it's just a humorous story, no big deal. He's just testing me to see what I'm gonna say next. I was initially impressed with the way you came up with that story too, btw. Initially when I told you to make me a sandwich, I was under the impression that it was going somewhere... and it did.

I like the fact that you refused to be an employee of mine. I wanted you to push back because the story was getting very interesting.

[Mia]

Yeah, I'm not offended or anything. It just made it hard to keep the story going

[Mia]

I was going to have another story about us going to Montreal to help prevent a friend of yours from getting assassinated during a hockey game. But you made me sound so pathetic that it wouldn't really work