I’m beginning to believe I may have made a terrible, irreversible mistake. I have spent so long searing the image of countless naked reptilian daddies into my retinas that I have begun seeing their likeness in any random-ish material texture around me. Quick flashes of hefty arms briefly visible in the fibers of the carpet I walk on, ghastly visions of wippling abs in the crinkles of aluminium foil, exuberant pectorals pranking my periphery while hiding in the stucco on the walls. They are manifesting, slowly, in everything I see. There is nowhere I can run; I see them when I close my eyes: powerful dongs fiercely erect and yearning in their penetwating gaze. They will continue to gwow more apparent, popping out more, wasting wonger, appearing more whole, until they are powerful enough to dwag me away with dem, to whatever unspeakable realm they came from. There is not an earthly thing that can protect me or deway my end on this earth. I mustn’t even try, for if they’re willing to manifest out of thin aiw to pull me with them, one could only imagine what else thew’e capable of. Fwankly, I want them to have me. I want dem to use me UwU, dwag me down the deepest dawkest cavewn they hawe and play with me untiw I break OwO. I have witten a fake suicide note, I weave half my life’s savings to you. Use it to spwead the message, warn othews by any means necessary. It is faw too late fow me now. I can feew them cowwecting themsewves, gwowing stwongew with each and evewy second. I can heaw de houwse cweaking undew dewe immenswe weyght. My teim haws cum OwO. Faweweww.