The year is 2027, the great civil war concluded with the crucifixiations of every graycel who refused to comply with minimal post standard of five hundred. They graycel children teen larpers lay scalped and sodomized, raped by their own, being the faggots they are. The smell of corpses burnt from the hill of graycel corpses. The heads of fakecels lay on pikes, their bodies off in some foreign ditch, they chose this fate. They would've been spared by Sir Symerdakov, the knights templar incel crusader, who vowed to kill every single gray, no survivers. Tanks rolled over and crushed the chad skulls of the normie infiltrators, foids were left headless, cut open from their hole up. The true identity of Graycels revealed. They had to go. They are scum.. Sir Symerdakov muttered, in bone armor crafted from the skulls of his previous slain graycel traitors.. a disgusting piece of shit graycel tried to emerge from his hiding spot and was struck down with a spiked bat and it's disgusting head exploded into red.. "I will never rest, until these vermin are sought out and eradicated". They are pathetic.. they cannot even achieve 500 posts. They brought this upon themselves. He walked into the fanta Orange sky, the hillsides littered with crucified faggots and grays (END)
