It seems like everything is happening at once with these fools.

Johnny Somali: Jailed.

Sneako: Attacked.

Clavicular: Overdosed.

Sneako was just attacked by some other random brown person on stream. However, he appears to be fine.

Clavicular just overdosed in a restaurant on what people are claiming was GHB. Looked serious: seizures, drifting in and out of consciousness. He is now hospitalized, his 'friends' claim that he is fine.

Nevertheless, the fact that these and other fools (e.g. the pro-child porn, 'democratic socialist' Vaush and the 'non-binary', 'bisexual', literal cocksucker [complete with video proof online], and deadbeat dad [what does his son think of his father's cock-sucking skills?] Destiny [who also overdosed on crystal meth several years ago]) are the leading role models for young people in today's world is really quite something.

Try telling your ancestors not only that these people exist, but that they are who people are really following in the 2020s. That they have large followings. And if it isn't some streamer, they're following some drug-addicted, porn-addicted celebrity like Kanye West, who is absolutely no better.

TheImpossible1's mother wakes up every morning and immediately checks on him. The result is always the same: 'Shit, my fuckwit incel son overdosed yet again! For the umpteenth time!'

He's built such a tolerance to Narcan that it takes four to revive him. With the opioids kicked off his receptors, he's relapsing into withdrawal symptoms. As he recovers, he screams at his mother for narcanning him, and she is a woman, after all. 'Fuck you, mum, you ruined my high! I'm in pain! You fucking fuck! Fuck!' He facepalms.

Then he remembers his idol. His beloved, Ronnie Merle McNutt. Now... do you... do you have the remotest idea how chronically and furiously TheImpossible1 masturbates over Ronnie McNutting all over the screen? Fast and Furious isn't just some movie title, it is descriptive of how he masturbates over Ronnie. When Ronnie is McNutting, TheImpossible1 is nutting... When Ronnie has McNutted, TheImpossible1 has nutted. Nutting in unison. Nutting as One. No fear, no guilt, no shame, no regret. The generation of pure McNutt Butter is truly an orgasmic experience.

But before he begins masturbating, he quickly checks scored.co. The page loads. Nazis! People with children! White people! Fuck! None of these people are down with his retardation. He is foaming at the mouth, a dog with rabies. But he then sees the word 'Jew', and all of a sudden he feels at home and a sense of calm overwhelms him, blowing him away like one of Ronnie's shotgun shells, for he has a strong affinity towards this ethnic group, composed wholly of degenerates like himself. He reaches for the Percocet. Oxycodone 30mg. He downs two tablets. 'I pwned the Nazis, the Whites, and the natalists today', he says, and smiles to himself as he falls into a deep relaxation and a sense of opioid-induced euphoria begins. It is time. Time to watch Ronnie McNutting.

Sometimes, TheImpossible1 watches Ronnie McNutting in slow motion so that his orgasm will also be in slow motion. He brings the playback speed almost to a halt, for Ronnie's head to gradually explode in unison with his other head. The resultant orgasm builds within him like a cacophonous crescendo and suddenly he is blown into a different realm by Ronnie's slow-motion shotgun blast, one that delivers to his wanting, ready body a devastating shell of pure, raw, unadulterated sexual pleasure.

Out there in the cosmos, Ronnie shares with him his message. He sees Ronnie's face, one of pure McNutt Butter, and Ronnie tells him that the true meaning of life is to always be absent-minded, to always be open-minded, to always mindlessly do things, to always be an incel, an anti-natalist. To never be closed-minded, to never be mindful of anything that he does. TheImpossible1 is the greatest student of the Grand Master, McNutt, and as he looks upon these words, he sees that they cannot even begin to convey the sheer truth and goodness of Ronnie's message that he wishes that he could communicate to the ignoble masses.

After the searing orgasm begins to wear off, he hurtles back down to this wretched world. He is left contorted, breathless, gasping for air, and, most of all, wanting more. His boundless sexual desire demands that he replays the video, to relive the experience, over and over. Screw the oxycodone. Two tablets don't get him high anymore. He reaches for the tapentadol, the hydrocodone, the hydromorphone, he's downing all these pills. The opioid-induced euphoria builds! He reaches for the syringe loaded with fentanyl and jabs it straight into his throat. A true, dedicated pharmacologist, with he his own test subject! Master of his trade! With the bloodied syringe still hanging from his throat, he starts masturbating furiously again to the point of another searing, gargantuan orgasm so that he hurtles back to Ronnie as fast as possible. He hurtles back and forth across the cosmos, so high on opioids that he careens through belts of crack asteroids as each orgasm crescendos and decrescendos. By this point, his wrists are arthritic, his right biceps incredibly strong (his left biceps, by contrast, amusingly non-existent) and his dong is practically in an L shape and reddened to the point of being as red as Ronnie's red sauce. His mind? Out there in the cosmos, far, far away.

Ronnie and opioids make his hallucinations so vivid! A world without life, for anti-natalism is the way to pwn the feminists! No human nor animal nor plant in sight. Can't have feminism if nothing is alive, right? Alas, a mistake! TheImpossible1 shudders momentarily, repulsed by the fact that he had erased the Jews for a time. Holocausted them for a brief moment! He rapidly repopulates the picture with Jews. No anti-natalism there! His searing orgasm intensifies upon envisaging a purely Jewish world. He realizes that he is a Jewish supremacist, and he turns and sees his beloved Ronnie smile seductively, nod approvingly, affirmingly. He sees a group of rabbis sucking the blood from freshly circumcized baby penises. The orgasm becomes so intense. In between gasping, he utters to them: 'Do not worry... I do not know if I am Jewish by gene... I hope that I am... but I know that I am Jewish by deed. Please... please accept me, my Jewish brothers.'

Now the vision is really vivid, the fantasy world... it has so much clarity! Now he's dropping rainbow dildos over Dresden to pwn the Nazis. From a flying rainbow unicorn! The thought of rainbow dildos littering, contaminating German soil with their degeneracy... he begins screaming at the top of his lungs to the point that his voice is soprano and a nearby glass breaks. 'Fuck... FUCK... I'm... I'm CUMMING!' But that unwanted thing called reality begins to seep back in. TheImpossible1 tries to cling to the rainbow flying unicorn, to remain there forever, but he begins losing his grip. The euphoria! The orgasm! Stop fading away! Stop! Eventually, the fantasy world falls away and nothing is left but that sordid thing called reality.

Yet sometimes it seems as though he re-enters this world incorrectly. Something has gone wrong. He knows this because his dong and Ronnie's shotgun have switched places. But what went wrong is so delightful, joyous, and right! He hears Ronnie's voice, and Ronnie tells him that this is their way of bonding ever closer. On the strange side, TheImpossible1 is furiously pumping Ronnie's shotgun and firing loads of buckshot from his loins. On the hilarious side, Ronnie places TheImpossible1's blood-red, L-shaped dong on screen and furiously fires his load, his thick, 12-gauge cumshot, blowing his head off.

Yet, even then, the euphoria eventually begins to fade. As TheImpossible1 is left without energy and in a pool of his own blood, semen, tears, and urine, he hears Ronnie and the Jews sing to him what sounds like a tune for some comedy film: 'We are the McNutters. Ronnie's McNutters. When Ronnie McNutts, we all nut. Without Ronnie McNutting, we are all nothing. We are the McNutters. Ronnie's McNutters.' For TheImpossible1, it lulls him like a nursery rhyme, and, after all, his brain is already collapsing under the weight of all the opioids. He begins to malfunction, for his brain cannot tolerate the opioids anymore.

That is the closest that he ever gets to that important thing called sleep. The night has already passed. It is already the following morning. His mother walks in and says the usual words, and, as usual, she narcans him four times. As TheImpossible1 is starting to recover... the sight of his own mother, a woman, begins to enrage him. Have we not heard all of this before? Yes, we have. For TheImpossible1's life is cyclical, and with the arrival of a new day, that cycle is about to begin anew.