Cultcow Russell Greer / @ just_some_dude_named_russell29 / A Safer Nevada PAC - Swift-Obsessed Sex Pest, Convicted of E-Stalking, "Eggshell Skull Plaintiff" Pro Se Litigant, Homeless, aspiring brothel owner
- Thread starter Cryin RN
- Start date
-
🐕 I am attempting to get the site runnning as fast as possible. If you are experiencing slow page load times, please report it.
- Joined
- Oct 11, 2014
She oddysee link no workie for me, says cannot be loaded due to incompatible something. I keep my codecs up to date just to prevent such things but I guess I'll survive. Thanks anyhow, fam!
I just clicked the link and it works for me.
Here's a couple more options:
Here's a couple more options:
EDIT: It is my fault, @East_Clintwood nailed the issue. Should have converted it to mp4. Apologies.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Apr 16, 2019
Had the same issue, in my case because it's Firefox which doesn't like .mkv files. Works fine if I open it in chrome, so you could try another browser, or just download it and play locally.
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2021
It's still up on Sean's Twitter, too.
- Joined
- Oct 11, 2014
I Hate The Disabled
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2024
I'm probably a bit too drunk for my own good, but here we're go: A Christmas Carol Russell
"Rahhhw Awwbun" mumbled Russell as a happy family passed by him while he was fishing out stale Auntie Anne pretzels from a dumpster.
The Christmas spirit is completely foreign to our homeless, magical star buddy. He's disowned his family and abadoned his church for not providing him a fuck mommy. Friendship is a foreign concept to him, for he knows no companionship that doesn't come with a price tag.
"Grawwwwhhll yummmbog"
"Christmas is retarded and gay, especially in the desert" thought Russell, as he ate his garbage food in the back of a rental car, which he is paying with money loaned by an Indian bank at 300% interest. Unbeknownst to this retard, he's about to be visited by 3 spirits.
Anybody want to take over for me?
"Rahhhw Awwbun" mumbled Russell as a happy family passed by him while he was fishing out stale Auntie Anne pretzels from a dumpster.
The Christmas spirit is completely foreign to our homeless, magical star buddy. He's disowned his family and abadoned his church for not providing him a fuck mommy. Friendship is a foreign concept to him, for he knows no companionship that doesn't come with a price tag.
"Grawwwwhhll yummmbog"
"Christmas is retarded and gay, especially in the desert" thought Russell, as he ate his garbage food in the back of a rental car, which he is paying with money loaned by an Indian bank at 300% interest. Unbeknownst to this retard, he's about to be visited by 3 spirits.
Anybody want to take over for me?
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2016
Sure!
After his meal, bits of canned green beans and chipotle sauce still dripping down his mouth, Russ returned to his car and got in after shooing a raccoon out of the back seat. As the sun crept below the horizon, Russ' cell phone buzzed with a notification: DoorDash was firing him for creeping on a customer, and would be repossessing his car just just as soon as they could get figure out what, exactly, his loan agreement with the loan sharks entailed. "Dushcrimination!" Russ seethed, didn't they know they were destroying the career of a future pop star?
Confident in his future victory, Russ curled up in his passenger seat and slowly drifted off to sleep. Katy Perry never told him 'no' in his dreams and Ariana Grande had only done that twice.
But instead of a woman who might suck him his penis, Russ' dream was filled instead with the ghastly visage of a middle-aged Jewish woman from Virginia.
"Ruuuuuuuuussssssss............." she said, her voice fading in and out.
"Oooh are ooh" Russ responded, with half a mind to unzip his pants already.
"Ruusssssss............ I am.......Melinda......Hardin's first victim........." the Jewess continued, as Russ slowly and drearily realized where this would not be heading.
"But..... perhaps...... I can save you.........tonight........ you will be visited by three spirits of lolsuits. .. . . .. . "
"I m a parareerer" Russ interjected, eager as always to demonstrated his intellect
"No Russ.... if you continue down this path, you may suffer the same fate as me . . . ."
The Mountain Jew's visage slowly faded away, giving way to . . .
Who's next?
Last edited:
- Joined
- Dec 24, 2018
The Mountain Jew's visage slowly faded away, giving way to the gooey LA night, made worse by the drool soaking his shirt. Russ felt his trauma lumps tighten as he rolled over in his car's backseat, pulling the blinders over his eyes, trying to sleep.
He jumped as someone knocked on the door. Someone jiggled the handle, and then a second later unlocked the door and yanked him out. Russell was about to screech about discrimination against the disabled when he noticed his assailant was neither a cop nor a saggy-pants thug. It was a small man in a sharp, new-looking suit. In Russell's mind, it didn't compare to the red suit buried in his car's trunk.
"I'm the Ghost of Lolsuits past," the man said. "I'm here to show you the lolsuits you started, and failed."
Before Russell could respond, the specter firebombed him on the spot. Rather than burn him, the fire transported him to courtroom- a courtroom he recognized. The throbbing of his trauma lumps could not drown out the judge reading his lawsuit against Farrah Abraham, and how Farrah's lawyers filed the countersuit. "Liesh!" he shouted, slurping up his drool. "Farrah begged me to drop the shoot! An' why're you showin' me this anyway?"
The specter pointed. "These are the suits you failed, and the punishments you avoided. You avoided paying sanctions to Farrah. But with this one you weren't so lucky." The scene shifted, and Russ found himself in a courtroom, listening to "Based" Greg Skordas and the Judge awarding Ariana Grande lawyer's fees for his lawsuit.
"Buh tha'sh no fair!" Russ cried, tears and drool flowing freely. "They didn' lishen to me!" He slurped his drool up, desperately attempting to maintain some façade of dignity.
The spirit was unmoved. "You started this and failed to learn from your mistakes."
"They dishcriminated against me! I've been dishcriminated againsht for my whole life!"
The spirit pulled out a a book and held it up to Russell. Russell felt his lumps throb as he beheld his magnum opus: Why I Sued Taylor Swift.
"Ish thuh truth!" he cried.
The specter bonked him on the head with the book, aggravating Russ's trauma lumps. "People have been discriminating in your favor for your whole life!" the Ghost of Lolsuits Past roared. "It's only when people treat you fairly that you get angry!"
"You're not lishening to me!" Russell said in impotent, whining fury.
"Why should I?" the spirit snarled, pulling out another firebomb. "You're not listening to me!" Before Russell could respond with his totally awesome reasoning, he found himself firebombed again, and just like before, he didn't burn up. He awoke in his own car, his back seat ruined- utterly soaked in his own piss, tears, and drool.
He pulled himself out of his car, muttering to himself....
(Who else wants to contribute?)
- Joined
- Jan 31, 2020
I love creative writing class.
Broken Cuddles
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Jul 5, 2022
(I was doing the christmas past part but got sniped by Sexy Senior Citizen)
After climbing out of the car into the cool Nevada night air Russel tried to catch his breath. Turning to close the car door he saw his car was gone! In its place sat a giant pile of monitors all displaying various pages of Kiwifarms, a website! Atop the pile sat a large jolly man in a pair of magic mormon underwear.
Shaking with disbelief and rage he manages to sputter out “what ish tha meening of thish?”
With a jolly laugh the figure leapt down off the pile and landed before him. “I am the ghost of lolsuit present! I’m here to show you the great gift of joy your lolsuit against Joshua Moon has brought to others!”
Russel felt the tears begin to swell in his eyes. “Puhleesh, if yewd only let me EXPLAIN!…” he began but the spirit cut him off. “You’ve been told to explain! You’ve had nothing BUT time to explain! And now your half assed attempts are read by kiwifarmers the world over, bringing mirth and laughter with every temper tantrum blogpost you call a filing. Every email, every motion is up here on these pages for everyone to see.”
The monitors each flashed through several pages of Russel’s filings, and occasionally a picture of Hitler. The pressure was too much and he could feel the trauma lumps forming. With tears falling down and mixing with drool he pleaded with the spirit.
“Thish isn’t fair! I don’t desherve thish hardshhip! I only wanted to get me my penish shucked and be the pop mushic shenshashun I desherve to be! Why are yew doing thish to me?”
“You did this to yourself!” the spirits deep voice boomed. “You greed has led you down this path, and your reluctance to finish what you started has caused all of this! You must do what must be done!”
“But shpirit!” Russ whined, “I don’t have time to finishh my filingsh! I need to buy a new shuit and…”
Once more the spirit cut him off. “Time is up. You will present your filings or receive your sanctions for wasting everyones time.”
The spirit leaped back onto the pile of monitors and the displays changed to show clocks. The time was 2 hours past his deadline! Quickly grabbing his iphone he went to check the time, pausing briefly to notice the battery power; 5% remaining. Looking up again he saw his car door once more, the pile of monitors and large man gone without a trace…
Who’s next?
6
Sent from my iphone.
After climbing out of the car into the cool Nevada night air Russel tried to catch his breath. Turning to close the car door he saw his car was gone! In its place sat a giant pile of monitors all displaying various pages of Kiwifarms, a website! Atop the pile sat a large jolly man in a pair of magic mormon underwear.
Shaking with disbelief and rage he manages to sputter out “what ish tha meening of thish?”
With a jolly laugh the figure leapt down off the pile and landed before him. “I am the ghost of lolsuit present! I’m here to show you the great gift of joy your lolsuit against Joshua Moon has brought to others!”
Russel felt the tears begin to swell in his eyes. “Puhleesh, if yewd only let me EXPLAIN!…” he began but the spirit cut him off. “You’ve been told to explain! You’ve had nothing BUT time to explain! And now your half assed attempts are read by kiwifarmers the world over, bringing mirth and laughter with every temper tantrum blogpost you call a filing. Every email, every motion is up here on these pages for everyone to see.”
The monitors each flashed through several pages of Russel’s filings, and occasionally a picture of Hitler. The pressure was too much and he could feel the trauma lumps forming. With tears falling down and mixing with drool he pleaded with the spirit.
“Thish isn’t fair! I don’t desherve thish hardshhip! I only wanted to get me my penish shucked and be the pop mushic shenshashun I desherve to be! Why are yew doing thish to me?”
“You did this to yourself!” the spirits deep voice boomed. “You greed has led you down this path, and your reluctance to finish what you started has caused all of this! You must do what must be done!”
“But shpirit!” Russ whined, “I don’t have time to finishh my filingsh! I need to buy a new shuit and…”
Once more the spirit cut him off. “Time is up. You will present your filings or receive your sanctions for wasting everyones time.”
The spirit leaped back onto the pile of monitors and the displays changed to show clocks. The time was 2 hours past his deadline! Quickly grabbing his iphone he went to check the time, pausing briefly to notice the battery power; 5% remaining. Looking up again he saw his car door once more, the pile of monitors and large man gone without a trace…
Who’s next?
6
Sent from my iphone.
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2016
Sorry for double post but this story needs to continue.
As Russ got back into his incelmobile, he heard a dog barking. Turning around, he immediately saw the dog. It was some sort of mutt, with pale brown fur and a long muzzle.
"Fhuck offh!" Russell shouted, hoping this night would end already.
The dog did no such thing and kept barking. The noise got louder and louder, rattling around Russ' head until suddenly the dog leapt towards the car. Just before the dog would have hit the door, the car disappeared and the dog transformed into a pudgy thirty-something man towering over Russ.
The man said nothing, only looking at Russ with unrestrained contempt
"Oooh are ooh?" Russell asked, trying desperately to ignore the overpowering odor of Serbian cheese.
The spirit said nothing, but the cheese gave it away: This could be none other than Null himself.
Russell was relieved! At last, Null was here to show how he'd lost and shut down Kiwi Farms!
Null took no mind, and with a wave of his hand the parking lot dissolved, to be replaced with the interior of a courtroom.
Russ saw himself behind a table near the judge's bench, representing himself like always, but something was off...... reversed, even.
"ooere ish thish?" he asked the spirit
The spirit, once again, said nothing at all.
The sound of jurors entering the courtroom drew Russ' attention away from Jersh and he eagerly awaited their verdict in his favor.
"Has the jury reached a verdict"? The judge asked.
"Yes we have Your Honor" replied the forewoman.
"And is it unanimous" responded the judge, familiar with these ritual words from all his years on the bench. I should make another video for jurors he thought to himself.
"Yes it is Your Honor".
"Well then, let's hear it."
"We, the jury, find in favor of Defendants Joshua Moon and Kiwi Farms, a website, in their counterclaims against Plaintiff Russell Greer for abuse of process. We award defendants $300,000 in statutory damages, their attorney's fees and all copyrights to Mr. Greer's works".
"The jury is dismissed, I thank each of you for your time. Merry CWCmas".
"Merry CWCMas, Your Honor".
The other side's attorney turned to exit the courtroom, revealing himself to be none other than Matthew Hardin.
Russ' head tightened like it had never before, with innumerable trauma lumps forming in the process. He was in such agony he barely noticed the courtroom scene disappearing and the spirit now taking him to the parking lot outside an Olive Garden. His car was nowhere to be seen
Null's spirit still said nothing, but its dour look was now replaced by an unmistakable shit-eating grin
"FHACK OO!" Russell seethed, the spirit's cruel magic making him literally go into seizures.
The spirit paid this no mind. His job done, Null turned to an attractive blonde woman who had walked over. "Hi Taylor, I'm so glad you could come. Are you ready for dinner?"
No - thought Russ- it couldn't be. Was that . . . Taylor Swift?
"Sure but -" it was! This explained everything! Taylor Swift was on Kiwi Farms all along!
" - what's with the weird guy on the ground over there?"
"Ignore him, let's head inside"
Even before Russ could see the two lovebirds leave him to his misery, his surroundings gave out from under him and he was returned to the parking lot with his car.
I'm
7
As Russ got back into his incelmobile, he heard a dog barking. Turning around, he immediately saw the dog. It was some sort of mutt, with pale brown fur and a long muzzle.
"Fhuck offh!" Russell shouted, hoping this night would end already.
The dog did no such thing and kept barking. The noise got louder and louder, rattling around Russ' head until suddenly the dog leapt towards the car. Just before the dog would have hit the door, the car disappeared and the dog transformed into a pudgy thirty-something man towering over Russ.
The man said nothing, only looking at Russ with unrestrained contempt
"Oooh are ooh?" Russell asked, trying desperately to ignore the overpowering odor of Serbian cheese.
The spirit said nothing, but the cheese gave it away: This could be none other than Null himself.
Russell was relieved! At last, Null was here to show how he'd lost and shut down Kiwi Farms!
Null took no mind, and with a wave of his hand the parking lot dissolved, to be replaced with the interior of a courtroom.
Russ saw himself behind a table near the judge's bench, representing himself like always, but something was off...... reversed, even.
"ooere ish thish?" he asked the spirit
The spirit, once again, said nothing at all.
The sound of jurors entering the courtroom drew Russ' attention away from Jersh and he eagerly awaited their verdict in his favor.
"Has the jury reached a verdict"? The judge asked.
"Yes we have Your Honor" replied the forewoman.
"And is it unanimous" responded the judge, familiar with these ritual words from all his years on the bench. I should make another video for jurors he thought to himself.
"Yes it is Your Honor".
"Well then, let's hear it."
"We, the jury, find in favor of Defendants Joshua Moon and Kiwi Farms, a website, in their counterclaims against Plaintiff Russell Greer for abuse of process. We award defendants $300,000 in statutory damages, their attorney's fees and all copyrights to Mr. Greer's works".
"The jury is dismissed, I thank each of you for your time. Merry CWCmas".
"Merry CWCMas, Your Honor".
The other side's attorney turned to exit the courtroom, revealing himself to be none other than Matthew Hardin.
Russ' head tightened like it had never before, with innumerable trauma lumps forming in the process. He was in such agony he barely noticed the courtroom scene disappearing and the spirit now taking him to the parking lot outside an Olive Garden. His car was nowhere to be seen
Null's spirit still said nothing, but its dour look was now replaced by an unmistakable shit-eating grin
"FHACK OO!" Russell seethed, the spirit's cruel magic making him literally go into seizures.
The spirit paid this no mind. His job done, Null turned to an attractive blonde woman who had walked over. "Hi Taylor, I'm so glad you could come. Are you ready for dinner?"
No - thought Russ- it couldn't be. Was that . . . Taylor Swift?
"Sure but -" it was! This explained everything! Taylor Swift was on Kiwi Farms all along!
" - what's with the weird guy on the ground over there?"
"Ignore him, let's head inside"
Even before Russ could see the two lovebirds leave him to his misery, his surroundings gave out from under him and he was returned to the parking lot with his car.
I'm
7
Last edited:
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2019
(I got ninja'd before I could post this, but I had too much fun writing it, and I'm just going to pretend that it was supposed to go after Uncle Tusky's lovely post. After all, Russ deserves as much Ghost of Lolsuit's future as he can get!)
Russ stared at the clear plexi-glass in the wall before him, showing a vague, ghost-like distortion of his own reflection. Thoughts of the car, the pungent street, and the ghosts of that unsettling evening drifted away like remnants of a dream as he anchored himself in his current setting.
The Nevada District Court offices.
A tinny melody drifted from the lobby's speakers, and Russ could feel his head tightening. Taylor Swift's voice crooned out a ballad; her latest hit, I Don't Like Nice Guys. It was *his* song, word for word, his song. The production company he had hired to make it a music video had forwarded it to Taylor, and he had the emails to prove it.
This copyright infringement case was guaranteed to be a slam dunk! He'd already found Taylor's registered agents. This time, he was going to serve her properly. This time, he couldn't wait for the discovery phase, because he had file after file of proof just waiting to throw on the table before the judge. In the plexi-glass partition, he caught a hint of movement and his eyes darted up to where a dark shadow loomed behind him. The figure was hard to see, but he could make out a black cowl, and a sharply curved green beak. The figure was silent, but its whole aura seemed to smirk at his earnest anticipation. Just wait, it seemed to say. Just wait.
On the other side of the plexi-glass, a thin, blonde woman with overly large glasses stared down at a computer screen. Time ticked by. Every now and then Russ heard a sharp clack as she hit a few more keys, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Issh it fiyled yhet?" he slurred out, no longer able to take the strain. "Ah neeyh to hayg it fiyled eefore I chan sherve Taylor."
"Oh, here we go..." the woman said brightly, the flaring light of her computer screen reflected in her glasses as the information finally flashed up on the screen. "Oh..." this time, her voice held a deep disappointment. "I'm sorry, but you can't file this."
"Bhut sshe shtole my shong!" Russ yelled, his feelings of elation turning to despair.
"It sounds like she did, but you've been declared a vexatious litigant. You can't file that unless you get a lawyer to do it for you."
"Bhut no one wiull go up aginsht Taylor," Russ moaned.
"Well, that doesn't matter so much, because you'd also have to finish paying off the $300,000 dollars in sanctions that you still owe to Joshua Moon and KiwiFarms, a website."
"Bhut, bhut..." Russ stammered, "Sshe shtole my shong! After I profve eht, sshe'll owe me millions!"
"That may be," the petite clerk said, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "But maybe you should have thought of that when you were filing these cases...."
There was a burring noise as a printer to Russ' left started shooting out page after page of filings; every motion he'd made in every lolsuit he'd ever filed. Russ flung his hand up to protect his face, but the paper washed around him, flowing past him, climbing higher and higher until it crested above his head and crashed down over him...
6
I'm
7
Russ stared at the clear plexi-glass in the wall before him, showing a vague, ghost-like distortion of his own reflection. Thoughts of the car, the pungent street, and the ghosts of that unsettling evening drifted away like remnants of a dream as he anchored himself in his current setting.
The Nevada District Court offices.
A tinny melody drifted from the lobby's speakers, and Russ could feel his head tightening. Taylor Swift's voice crooned out a ballad; her latest hit, I Don't Like Nice Guys. It was *his* song, word for word, his song. The production company he had hired to make it a music video had forwarded it to Taylor, and he had the emails to prove it.
This copyright infringement case was guaranteed to be a slam dunk! He'd already found Taylor's registered agents. This time, he was going to serve her properly. This time, he couldn't wait for the discovery phase, because he had file after file of proof just waiting to throw on the table before the judge. In the plexi-glass partition, he caught a hint of movement and his eyes darted up to where a dark shadow loomed behind him. The figure was hard to see, but he could make out a black cowl, and a sharply curved green beak. The figure was silent, but its whole aura seemed to smirk at his earnest anticipation. Just wait, it seemed to say. Just wait.
On the other side of the plexi-glass, a thin, blonde woman with overly large glasses stared down at a computer screen. Time ticked by. Every now and then Russ heard a sharp clack as she hit a few more keys, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Issh it fiyled yhet?" he slurred out, no longer able to take the strain. "Ah neeyh to hayg it fiyled eefore I chan sherve Taylor."
"Oh, here we go..." the woman said brightly, the flaring light of her computer screen reflected in her glasses as the information finally flashed up on the screen. "Oh..." this time, her voice held a deep disappointment. "I'm sorry, but you can't file this."
"Bhut sshe shtole my shong!" Russ yelled, his feelings of elation turning to despair.
"It sounds like she did, but you've been declared a vexatious litigant. You can't file that unless you get a lawyer to do it for you."
"Bhut no one wiull go up aginsht Taylor," Russ moaned.
"Well, that doesn't matter so much, because you'd also have to finish paying off the $300,000 dollars in sanctions that you still owe to Joshua Moon and KiwiFarms, a website."
"Bhut, bhut..." Russ stammered, "Sshe shtole my shong! After I profve eht, sshe'll owe me millions!"
"That may be," the petite clerk said, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "But maybe you should have thought of that when you were filing these cases...."
There was a burring noise as a printer to Russ' left started shooting out page after page of filings; every motion he'd made in every lolsuit he'd ever filed. Russ flung his hand up to protect his face, but the paper washed around him, flowing past him, climbing higher and higher until it crested above his head and crashed down over him...
6
I'm
7
- Joined
- Jul 24, 2017
Russ gave confirmation in the latest filing his family want nothing to do with his nonsense.
- Joined
- Feb 27, 2015
Focused on the issues at hand:
- Joined
- Sep 29, 2022
It's not that it's a woman who was killed that bothers Russtard. It's that it was a hooker that was killed and he never got the chance to fuck her.
That's the real tragedy where he's concerned.
- Joined
- Mar 9, 2015
It's so scary this is so easy to read.
Now with out making this a personal blog, I lean towards ancap etc and I'm all for no crime for hookers. I accept there's trafficking etc but Rusty refuses to see this because he's so into it. I mean it's zealot behavior. Rusty really wants it legal because he could keep his bully rules of "my face is fucked up let me do anything" hypothetical if we lived in Ron Paul US2.0 (unregulated) Rusty would still not get whores they would see he's a gross weirdo and say no.
He honestly thinks him not cumming is as bad a "coloreds only" water fountains"
Airstrip One
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2024
In the interests of advancing this story, we must now turn our attention to Greer's vehicle, and in particular the windshield which was,,incredibly, even more greasy and bug spattered than its owner's filthy suit. The panorama that it framed was barren even by the standard of Nevada, void of all life. Even the rocks looked like they were having a hard time of it. Presently a glint of moonlight reflecting off something on the horizon caught Greer's attention. Whatever it was, it appeared to be heading in his direction at great speed. As the foreign object drew closer he was able to discern that it was white and cylindrical in shape, and that it propelled itself by means of single wheel that emerged from its undercarriage. When it was within ten feet of his car it came to a sudden halt. The outline of a pair of large pixelated eyes appeared in the dark visor of its domed head.
"Greetings homunculoid Greer," said the sentient unicycle in an enthusiastic robot voice.
Greer spoke some words in return that were unfortunately indecipherable, even to the author of this story.
"I am the Ghost of Lolsuits from the Even Further Future," said the robot. "In the year that you know as 6, I was captured by Elon Musk and placed inside this mechanical body. Now behold a world without trees.! All plant life has been rendered extinct by the demand for paper to print out the endless legal actions that you have filed against all and sundry (1). Deprived of the civilizing influence of toilet paper, humanity has regressed to a feral state of communal sex and violence, but mostly sex. All males have been wiped out by plague and the females are infected with a parasite that makes them sexually insatiable when they encounter a member of the opposite sex."
At this juncture the robot paused while it scanned Greer.
"The probability is that you will not get laid," it said.
Greer, whose Native American name was 'Hanging Mouth', sank into the torn, semen-stained leatherette of the driver's seat of his car with his jaw wide open. Presently a single tear rolled down his cheek, not for the devastation he had wrought upon the world, but for the implied absence of the gas station flowers that he liked to present to hookers prior to getting his penis sucked.
"I can explain," he said,
As he exited the vehicle, the eyes of the robot turned from blue to red and it seemed to draw itself upright on its wheel and assume a threatening posture.
"Safe space breached!. Engaging 1000 year Reich defensive protocols," it squawked, as a curved panel in the side of its body opened and a cannon, mounted on hinged arm, whirred into life. A barrage of AI-generated drawings of Hitler erupted from the spinning barrels like a flock of bats, swarming the beleaguered Greer and eventually knocking him to the ground through the raw power of 1940s racism and physics.
1. Greer vs All and Sundry, 2027
- Joined
- Dec 25, 2015
I am fucking DEAD (and other such outbursts the modern yoof use online). Holy shit, you mad bastard, you brought the whole story to a close perfectly.
Including the footnote.
How quickly will Russ try to sue us for copyright of using his likeness in fictional works, d’you think?
- Joined
- Mar 24, 2019
merry christmas!
Last edited by a moderator: