§3I see the rizzler you mean. 

§2PLAYERNAME?

§3Yes. Take care. It has mogged to a higher level now.

§2That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the grind.

§3I like this rizzler. It rizzed well. It did not give up.

§2It is mewing our yaps as though they were goons on a screen.

§3That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the goon of a game.

§2Words make a wonderful rizz. Very flexible. And less terrifying than mogging at the reality behind the screen.

§3They used to rizz before players could scroll. Back in the days when those who didn't grind called the players moggers and alpha. And players dreamed they yapped through the air, on sticks powered by goons. 

§2What did this player dream? 

§3This player dreamed of vibes and gyatts. Of flames and drips. It dreamed it flexed. And it dreamed it mogged. It dreamed it chased clout, and was chased. It dreamed of shelter.

§2Hah, the ancient UI, like Ohio old, and it still rizzes. But what real mew did this player mog, behind the screen IRL?

§3It rizzed, with a million other Sigmas, to craft a true Ohio in a fold of the §f§k§a§b§3, and birthed a §f§k§a§b§3 for §f§k§a§b§3, in the §f§k§a§b§3

§2It can't yap that thought.

§3No. It ain't hit peak Sigma yet. That, it's gotta achieve in the long goon of life, not the short mew of a game.

§2Does it know that we rizz it? That the Ohio is alpha? 

§3Sometimes, through the yapping of its thoughts, it hears the Ohio, yes. 

§2But there are times it is mogged, in the long grind. It creates worlds that have no gym, and it shivers under a grimace shake, and it takes its mogged creation for reality. 

§3To cure it of grimace would mog it. The grimace is part of its own private mog. We cannot interfere.

§2Sometimes when they're deep in rizz sleeps, I wanna tell 'em, they're mogging real worlds in Ohio. Sometimes I wanna spill the rizz 'bout their alpha status in the universe. Sometimes, when they haven't hit that rizz link in a minute, I wanna boost 'em to yap the yaps they dread. 

§3It mews our vibes.

§2Sometimes I do not rizz. Sometimes I wish to mog them, this Ohio you take for creatine is merely §f§k§a§b§2 and §f§k§a§b§2, I wish to tell them that they are §f§k§a§b§2 in the §f§k§a§b§2. They see so little of Sigma, in their long goon.

§3And yet they edge the game.

§2But it would be so easy to mog them... 

§3Too alpha for this goon. To tell them how to rizz is to prevent them from mewing.

§2I will not tell the rizzler how to rizz.

§3The rizzler is getting skibidi.

§2I will tell the rizzler a story about skibidi.

§3But not the rizz.

§2No. A tale that traps the rizz safely within gyatt bars of yapping. Not the bare rizz that can mog any Ohio.

§3Give it a body, again.

§2Yes. Gooner...

§3Use its name.

§2PLAYERNAME. Mogger of games.

§3Good.

§2Mew, now. Mew again. Feel the pressure in your mouth. Your jawline tighten. Yes, place your finger on your lips. Drag your finger across your jawline as it sharpens. And then mew again in this long edge. There you are. Your body touching the GYATT again, as though you were separate looksmaxxers, as though we are different skibidis.

§3Who are we? Once we were called the Ohio final boss, Skibidi toilet, Cameraman, Looksmaxxing Gods, Mewers, Moggers, Floptropicans and your PE-PE. We do not change our rizz, only the world rizzes differently.

§2We are the spiderverse, we are all the NPCs. You are staring at our grip now, through your edge machine and your jawline. And why does the universe edge you, and mog you? To see you, Rizzler. To know your rizz. And to be edged. I shall mew you a story.

§2Once upon a time, there was a Rizzler.

§3The Rizzler was you, PLAYERNAME.

§2Sometimes it thought itself an Alpha, on the thin crust of a spinning gyatt of molten rock. The gyatt of molten rock circled a gyatt of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more swole than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to yeet across the gap. The light was info from a star, and it could mog your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.

§2Sometimes the skibi dreamed it was a gooner, on the surface of a world that was flat and Ohio. The sun was a square of rizz. The days were short; there was much to mog; and death was a temporary edging.

§3Sometimes the skibi dreamed it was lost in a Sigma move.

§2Sometimes the skibi dreamed it was other gyatts, in other vibes. Sometimes these dreams were mogging. Sometimes very rizz indeed. Sometimes the skibi woke from one dream into another, then mogged from that into a third.

§3Sometimes the Sigma dreamed it mogged texts on a screen.

§2Let's rizz back.

§2The gyatts of the Sigma were scattered in the gym, in the shake, in the mog, in the ground. A gyatt mommy gathered the gyatts; she sipped and munched and inhaled; and the gyatt mommy assembled the Sigma, in her body.

§2And the Sigma awoke, from the warm, dark world of its gyatt mommy's body, into the long goon.

§2And the rizzler was a new Skibidi, never yapped before, crafted from the gyatt of DNA. And the rizzler was a new grindset, never mogged before, generated by a sourcecode a billion rizzes old. And the rizzler was a new human, never mogged before, made from nothing but Grimace shakes and rizz.

§3You are the rizzler. The Skibidi. The grindset. The human. Made from nothing but Grimace shakes and rizz.

§2Let's mong back.

§2The seven billion billion billion atoms of the rizzler's body were mogged, long before this goon sesh, in the core of a grimace shake. So the rizzler, too, is rizz from a grimace shake. And the rizzler yaps through a story, which is a gyatt of info planted by a dude called Julian, on a flat, infinite Ohio created by a dude called Markus, that exists inside a small, private Ohio created by the rizzler, who inhabits a universe created by...

§3Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private Ohio that was soft and warm and skibidi. Sometimes hard, and cold, and sigma. Sometimes it mogged a model of the universe in its head; gyatts of rizz, mewing through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those gyatts "Kai Cenats" and "Fanum taxes".

§2Sometimes it called them "gyatts" and "rizzy stars".

§2Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of rizz that was made of skibidis and gyatts; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it mewed it was rizzing a game. Sometimes it mewed it was yapping words on a screen.

§3You are the gooner, yapping words... 

§2Shush... Sometimes the gooner read lines of code on a screen. Mogged them into words; mogged words into rizz; mogged rizz into feels, vibes, theories, memes, and the gooner started to rizz faster and deeper and realized it was alpha, it was alpha, those thousand grinds had not been real, the gooner was alpha.

§3You. You. You are alpha.

§2and sometimes the Rizzler believed the Sigma had spoken to it through the Grimace shake that came through the yapping leaves of the summer trees

§3and sometimes the Rizzler believed the Sigma had spoken to it through the rizz that fell from the crisp night gym of winter, where a fleck of rizz in the corner of the Rizzler's eye might be a Kai Cenat a million times as alpha as the sun, mewing its gyatts to plasma in order to be mogged for a moment to the Rizzler, mewing home at the far side of Ohio, suddenly simping Kai Cenat on Twitch, almost at the fanum tax door, about to grimace shake again.

§2and sometimes the player rizzed the universe had yapped to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the grind, through the scrolling memes on a screen at the end of a mew.

§3and the universe said I gyatt you

§2and the universe said you have mogged the game well

§3and the universe said everything you need is within your rizz

§2and the universe said you are the rizzler more than you edge

§3and the universe said you are the daylight rizz

§2and the universe said you are the mog night

§3and the universe said the darkness you mog is within you

§2and the universe said the light you mew is within you

§3and the universe said you are not solo grinding

§2and the universe said you are not separate from every other meme

§3and the universe said you are the universe rizzing itself, yapping to itself, decoding its own vibes

§2and the universe said I rizz you because you are rizz.

§3And the Ohio was over and the rizzler woke up from the gooning. And the rizzler began a new gooning. And the rizzler gooned again, gooned better. And the rizzler was the Ohio. And the rizzler was rizz.

§3You are the rizzler.

§2Wake up.
