Skitzocow Chris Gillon / Autphag and Spergchan / Sophie Y’Israeli - Autistic North Koreaboo, Also a Man

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Who passes better as a woman?

  • Autphag:

    Votes: 36 9.9%
  • Robert Wayne Stiles

    Votes: 327 90.1%

  • Total voters
    363
Cde. Sophie sits slumped and glassy-eyed on the splintered wooden chair in the near empty, windowless room across from her stripped bed, its arm and leg restraints dangling above the concrete floor. Silence, aside from a periodic mechanical whirr emitted by the close circuit camera perched in the corner and the heavy sighs Sophie manages every so often. How long has it been now? 5 years? 10 years? It doesn't matter.

The silence is soon broken by an all too familiar noise, the rattle of pills on the creaky medical guerney outside her door and the metallic clinking of keys tumbling over one another. The door slowly opens, revealing the large framed sillouhette in the shape of a traditional nurses uniform. "Dinner time, Chris", chides a thin reedy voice.

Sophie remains seated, but begins to squirm. "Come now, be a good boy for Nurse Anderson, no fuss this time." Sophie stops motionless, her shoulders slumping in defeat. The nurse smiles. "Come along Christopher, no need to be an angry ant today" says the nurse, moving closer toward Sophie, a large plastic cup of pills in her oversized hand. Sophie remains still. "Christopher!" screams the nurse, simultaneously forcing Sophie's limp hand to her neck, still smiling while purposefully throwing the cup of pills to the floor. "Guards! Help! She's attacking me!" the nurse cries out, still smiling.

Two large men come charging through the tiny door, immediately shielding the nurse from "harm", then grabbing Sophie and roughly slamming her to the bed with no resistance except a muffled murmur. The larger guard hovers over the frail figure on the bed, while the smaller grabs the leg restraints, the buckles making a soft metallic clinking against the iron bed frame while in the background the nurse scrambles to get the strewn pills back in the plastic cup. Immediately Sophie begins to struggle, the noise of the buckles setting off an almost Pavlovian response in her. A sharp slap across the face from the larger guard forces Sophie to lay still. Soon the restraints are in place, the guards giving a quick glance to the nurse who nods as they shuffle back outside.

Slowly, the nurse make her way toward the restrained victim and sits on the edge of the bed, still smiling as she tightens an arm restraint one last time. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, dinner time. Tonight we have... oh look here" says the nurse, grabbing a large pill from the cup and holding it upright above Sophie's head. "Thorazine! Ooh, we have a lot of these to get through, let's not rush things" says the nurse, forcing the pill roughly into Sophie's blood stained mouth with a gloved finger, then reaching back to grab another from what seems like an endless supply of identical pills.
 
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Cde. Sophie sits slumped and glassy-eyed on the splintered wooden chair in the near empty, windowless room across from her stripped bed, its arm and leg restraints dangling above the concrete floor. Silence, aside from a periodic mechanical whirr emitted by the close circuit camera perched in the corner and the heavy sighs Sophie manages every so often. How long has it been now? 5 years? 10 years? It doesn't matter.

The silence is soon broken by an all too familiar noise, the rattle of pills on the creaky medical guerney outside her door and the metallic clinking of keys tumbling over one another. The door slowly opens, revealing the large framed sillouhette in the shape of a traditional nurses uniform. "Dinner time, Chris", chides a thin reedy voice.

Sophie remains seated, but begins to squirm. "Come now, be a good boy for Nurse Anderson, no fuss this time." Sophie stops motionless, her shoulders slumping in defeat. The nurse smiles. "Come along Christopher, no need to be an angry ant today" says the nurse, moving closer toward Sophie, a large plastic cup of pills in her oversized hand. Sophie remains still. "Christopher!" screams the nurse, simultaneously forcing Sophie's limp hand to her neck, still smiling while throwing the cup of pills to the floor. "Guards! Help! She's attacking me!" the nurse cries out, still smiling.

Two large men come charging through the tiny door, immediately shielding the nurse from "harm", then grabbing Sophie and roughly slamming her to the bed with no resistance except a muffled murmur. The larger guard hovers over the frail figure on the bed, while the smaller grabs the leg restraints, the buckles making a soft metallic clinking against the iron bed frame while in the background the nurse scrambles to get the strewn pills back in the plastic cup. Immediately Sophie begins to struggle, the noise of the buckles setting off an almost Pavlovian response in her. A sharp slap across the face from the larger guard forces Sophie to lay still. Soon the restraints are in place, the guards giving a quick glance to the nurse who nods as they shuffle back outside.

Slowly, the nurse grabs make her way and sits on the edge of the bed, still smiling as she tightens an arm restraint one last time. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, dinner time. Tonight we have... oh look here" says the nurse, grabbing a large pill from the cup and holding it upright above Sophie's head. "Thorazine! Ooh, we have a lot of these to get through, let's not rush things" says the nurse, forcing the pill roughly into Sophie's blood stained mouth with a gloved finger, then reaching back to grab another from what seems like an endless supply of identical pills.
I needed a Western funny before going to sleep.

Permanent, deep sleep that is.

Actually, nah, allow me to do something else

starts fapping

Great psych-domination porn. 10/10
 
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I'd like to see a ticket stub, thanks, before I believe you visited the embassy.

I'd like to see a picture of the white horse Chac rode in on. Is it that breed with the wings, too? Those are so pretty.

Also wtf is a "diplomatic romance"? Is that, too, Diplomacy 101, as when the Polish first lady reached out her hand, not to the Donald, but to Melania, forging that matriarchal bond?
 
I have a receipt of claim filing here from copyright.gov in respect of Final Retardations

Thirty five of your American bucks, online filing is much cheaper. First to file wins, you remember that from the law course you never attended?

It's mine. Too late, checkmate. No one is going to file for you, dear, and I have ensured you can't even do it yourself now.

How does it feel to know no one is ever going to read all those words of yours?
 
Whoops, for a moment I forgot you're a sick fuck. My bad.
It was one of the first genres of porn I got into, before AB;DL or the vicarious-transsexualism-journey stuff, since you seem to hate the name 'feminization' and that would be a more accurate description of what sort of stories I did read from the likes of storysite/sissykiss/whatever.

How do you think I know so many drug names?

I have a receipt of claim filing here from copyright.gov in respect of Final Retardations

Thirty five of your American bucks, online filing is much cheaper. First to file wins, you remember that from the law course you never attended?

It's mine. Too late, checkmate. No one is going to file for you, dear, and I have ensured you can't even do it yourself now.

How does it feel to know no one is ever going to read all those words of yours?
It's the Elders of Zion dillemma; nobody cares for the official copyright in the end. They will care that a theiving Jew like you lacked the integrity to lay your hands off it for even a second when it does become significant and you do prove too intellectually retarded to understand what you claim to be yours. *shrug*
 
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I thought this sped was going to go to sleep. I guess he thinks it's better to shit up the internet longer.
 
It's the Elders of Zion dillemma; nobody cares for the official copyright in the end. They will care that a theiving Jew like you lacked the integrity to lay your hands off it for even a second when it does become significant and you do prove too intellectually exceptional to understand what you claim to be yours. *shrug*

What will it take for you to simply get up from your computer/phone/whatever, go to the coast, and walk into the sea?
 
It's the Elders of Zion dillemma; nobody cares for the official copyright in the end. They will care that a theiving Jew like you lacked the integrity to lay your hands off it for even a second when it does become significant and you do prove too intellectually exceptional to understand what you claim to be yours. *shrug*

If no1curr, why were you spazzing out so much at S-chan about me taking your copyright for your DONUT STEEL ORIGINUL WURK?

Is it because even you realise the DCMA takedowns will vanish your turgid psychotic ramblings from the internet?

It is gone, goodbye, farewell.

I wonder what else I can do before I arrive in Blackburn tomorrow.
 
If no1curr, why were you spazzing out so much at S-chan about me taking your copyright for your DONUT STEEL ORIGINUL WURK?

Is it because even you realise the DCMA takedowns will vanish your turgid psychotic ramblings from the internet?

It is gone, goodbye, farewell.

I wonder what else I can do before I arrive in Blackburn tomorrow.
Am I?

They've gone to bed. I was mostly speaking to Walter.

Shows what you know.

What will it take for you to simply get up from your computer/phone/whatever, go to the coast, and walk into the sea?
But that's where I'm trying to push neurodiversitarian ideology.
 
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If no1curr, why were you spazzing out so much at S-chan about me taking your copyright for your DONUT STEEL ORIGINUL WURK?

Is it because even you realise the DCMA takedowns will vanish your turgid psychotic ramblings from the internet?

It is gone, goodbye, farewell.

I wonder what else I can do before I arrive in Blackburn tomorrow.

I'm sure @Cuntster can think of something.

Am I?

They've gone to bed. I was mostly speaking to Walter.

Shows what you know.

People trust @Fareal more than you
 
Am I?

They've gone to bed. I was mostly speaking to Walter.

Shows what you know.

I have the logs in real time, you spastic.

If you would drop the comforting illusion of privacy, you would do a better job of protecting yourself.

I hope you went to the shops today. I will be with your neighbours tomorrow. You were wrong before that the local community was gangstalking you.

You won't be wrong any more.

Making any progress yet? Have you even managed to strike one name off the list?
 
I have the logs in real time, you spastic.

If you would drop the comforting illusion of privacy, you would do a better job of protecting yourself.

I hope you went to the shops today. I will be with your neighbours tomorrow. You were wrong before that the local community was gangstalking you.

You won't be wrong any more.

Making any progress yet? Have you even managed to strike one name off the list?
Nah, negro Kenneth, it's called "you're trying to use your cognitive empathy to a bluffing advantage".

That might work on negroid dog companions. I'm partially Polish Aryan *smugly smile*

So, since you have logs in real time, would you mind telling me what else I've been saying, to Walter, to Cerrin, to Leonard Park? Also, would you mind showing the version of Final Retrospections copyrighted?

Also, as you mention that, starting maybe about now, I'll station myself at the front door to catch you and spontaneously strike you for your shit.
I've patience, dear. Korean Army-tier patience, when I want something. And atm, I really want your blood.
 
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I have the logs in real time, you spastic.

If you would drop the comforting illusion of privacy, you would do a better job of protecting yourself.

I hope you went to the shops today. I will be with your neighbours tomorrow. You were wrong before that the local community was gangstalking you.

You won't be wrong any more.

Making any progress yet? Have you even managed to strike one name off the list?

He's been calling me James for what? A month now. Do you think he's good with names?
Korean Army-tier patience

So in other words no patience at all. Yes we all know that Chris.
 
He's been calling me James for what? A month now. Do you think he's good with names?
I think I'm good enough that you've shedded a fucktonne of pretences to your persona which were originally there. Anywho, I'll phone my mother for supplies very, very, very briefly in the process of my sentry, just so I can maintain some endurance as I wait for Fareal's blood, unless the tranny suggests chukjibop is real and he can teleport himself to my neighbours.
 
An old maxim from P-Logic was, "people are generally idiots about whom they trust."

Taking his advice on board, I put it to you, the socialized psychopath of high ranking Fareal has spun this little facet of human vulnerability around their finger, esp. with respect to you, James.

You're scared and trying to put a brave front.

Too bad for you that you are very obvious about it.

Now, and I mean this sincerely, turn off the computer and get some sleep already, you're only making your situation worse the longer you stay here.
 
I think I'm good enough that you've shedded a fucktonne of pretences to your persona which were originally there. Anywho, I'll phone my mother for supplies very, very, very briefly in the process of my sentry, just so I can maintain some endurance as I wait for Fareal's blood, unless the tranny suggests chukjibop is real and he can teleport himself to my neighbours.

You haven't succeeded at anything other than show people how stupid you are Chris.
 
You're scared and trying to put a brave front.

Too bad for you that you are very obvious about it.

Now, and I mean this sincerely, turn off the computer and get some sleep already, you're only making your situation worse the longer you stay here.
Nonsense. You've all the empathy of stale bread.

I have 3 gradations to the intensity of my emotions: amongst trustworthy confidantes that's supremely intense, around normalfags and chavs that's eh... I withhold it a bit, amongst enemies I turn into an army private and show nothing but a desire to kill.

Fareal has unleashed the joseonkunmin quasi-psychopathic side of me that I'm afraid will be his undoing when he decides to approach my neighbours whilst I'm sentried. Might make him think twice about bothering.

You haven't succeeded at anything other than show people how stupid you are Chris.
Gordoooon.... gorrddoonn, quit with the life stories. You annoy everyone, service user and neugrotardical, at your workplace with them. They're inconsistent and you lie a lot. Must be in your Picto-Farealian blood.
 
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Nah, negro Kenneth, it's called "you're trying to use your cognitive empathy to a bluffing advantage".

That might work on negroid dog companions. I'm partially Polish Aryan *smugly smile*

So, since you have logs in real time, would you mind telling me what else I've been saying, to Walter, to Cerrin, to Leonard Park? Also, would you mind showing the version of Final Retrospections copyrighted?

I'm sorry, you actually think you are talking to them?

You are talking to me. And when you scream at them to confirm that they aren't me, of course I will deny it. I will be so hurt you don't believe me. I might not be your friend any more. I might do some bad things in my guise of your "friends".

Who could you possibly trust? Not anyone here. It has been a long time since the Kiwis replaced your "cadres". You have heard of the Capgras delusion? In your case, that is your reality.

We are everyone you think you know. Everyone that you can't reach out and touch? That's us. The people you can reach out and touch? Most of them are mine. Most of them didn't even want rewarded for their betrayal of you. The knowledge that your house on the sand was collapsing pleased them enough.

Here is some free legal advice: I now have the copyright claim over all derivative versions of Final Retrospections. Slightly rewriting it will only cause me further injury under the law and I will take the appropriate measures.

This is how the mouse feels when the poison starts to kick in, Chris.

Looked out your window recently?
 
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