NEVER BUY ACID IN SAYREVILLE

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champer 1 : "guhhhh im outta the sauce"

The night was long and dark. As long and dark as a horse. The night was hung out.

However, I was also hung out as well. Not as much as a horse, and not in that way.

My mind was hung out. My conscience was hanging with boredom.

My mouth was dry, and my nuts were cold. I have no entertainment, and no sustenance.

I'm not lacking food however, as the dog I bought last night was fulfilling.

No-one told me how goated homemade chinese was.

Anyways, my mind was fucking dull. Dull as hel. (💀)

My plug was down and out for the rest of the month. I couldn't get anything off of him.

The dumbass had relapsed and jammed a whole table leg up ass, and his whole anus prolapsed on Instagram Live.

I had to turn to my "alternate" methods to acquire the goop.

I open my telegram app, scroll past 4 turkey trading channels, 4 Russian furry porn channels, 2 Armenian bomb-making channels, an ISIS newswire, and 9 channels dedicated to posting black thugs shaking their thugs.

I ain't know anyone in Sayreville who has the sauce, except for one individual.

One rumored individual.

A certain, "Gyler Toias".

Hood legends state that he delivers, but his sauce isn't straight.

It's queef as fuck.

Champa 2 : the plug of fritz dr.

Damn bitch, I forgot.

That Gyler bitch doesn't use telegram. He isn't a GENETICALLY-ENHANCED VOICE-TO-SKULL RECIPIENT who is GOATED with the ESOTERIC KNOWLEDGE.

He doesn't even use social media, you can only contact him by text.

I've heard this is because he's actually not an American citizen, and he's instead a CCP asset that can't be tainted by the far-fetched, horrible, capitalist influences of the dark western world.

A homeless guy high on crack told me that.

I type his number into my phone, and send him a message.

"hey is this gyler toyass, if so, i want a few tabs of some of that magic goated zzauce… i wanna get fucked… not in the ass… in the head… you set a price and i pay it… i need some zzauce. ASAP…"

Somehow, in 5 seconds, I instantly get a response.

"2 dollars go to 19 fritz drive"

What.

Either this man is high on crack, or he runs a bot on the number, as that would explain him only using phone numbers.

But,

2 dollars?

💀

Chanker 3 : 2 dolla acid ; who wants it

I rev up my bugatti. (hueeuugh)

By Bugatti, I really mean 2004 Honda Civic, with an AliExpress spoiler super-glued onto the trunk.

It's a 10 minutes drive from my house to 19 Fritz Dr.

Sayreville isn't too big of a place.

I pull up at the house.

No lights are on, except for one light.

The light is the porch light.

Something about this house doesn't feel right.

Fucking retard turned off all of his lights, as if noone was home.

Except for the porch light.

An average sized, lanky, fuckboy looking ahh bitch stances up on the porch.

I assume he is the guy on the phone, because no fucking retard looking like that would be caught dead or alive at this time existing.

I get out of my 2004 Honda Civic, and as I go to close the door,

it falls off.

bitch.

Deciding to deal with the door later, I leave it and approach the lanky asian fuckboy.

I walk up to him, and he stares at me with a precarious glance.

"i am the gyler toias. of 19 fritz. extend thy hand with thy currency and ye shall receive, not zaza, but instead a great hompilgiomous beenglefooge of my precisely well endeavoured copalanemankallahfaeu mohammed bonga daesh ohama beezlegluggy"

Beyond confusion, I look at this individual and attempt to understand the biggernabble he just spoke upon my ears.

I do not even dare to communicate further with this being, and I really don't wanna take whatever he's giving, but my withdrawl takes me places I wouldn't go to, even with a loaded gun, and a chance at absolutely smashing the shit out of 1471's tight ████ ██████ ███ ██ █ █████ █████ hot ████ ██████████

With a great, deep, feeling in my gut that I should of listened to, I give him the 4 dollars, and take a small dime-bag full of a-

Moving? Spinning?

It's a bag full of a rainbow-ish looking liquid, and it's… twirling.

It's also slightly glowing.

Not federally, but slightly.

It has a blue hue.

"you dink it", Gyler says to me.

The presence of the omega-tard scares me, and I just turn around and briskly walk to my Civic.

I don't fuck with the recently detached door, and just drive off.

Not having a door beats getting molested by an asian that just sold me god knows what.

Coper 4 : wtf is this boof

I am back at my home.

I am safe from Gyler Toias.

I am far away, from 19 Fritz Drive.

I take the small bag of liquid out, and I feel a slight jolt in my heart as I realize the fucking bag full of goop has just been in my pocket the whole time since I got it from that chink.

It's not broken however, so boo fucking hoo.

I empty the bags contents into a red Solo cup I have on my coffee table, and without a second hesitation, I down the cup like a shot.

It's, tasteless.

There's no flavour.

I only felt the cold temperature of the drink going in my mouth, down my throat, and wherever else in my body. (i failed anatomy)

After 3 minutes, nothing happens.

"Edible" drug, I guess.

I should probably expect it to kick in around the same time as a zaza edible.

I stopped counting the time, as I mindlessly shuffled through collective on IFunny.

I watched a man eat a brick.

I watched a video of a horse eating bricks in Iran.

I watched a consistent group of 4 people argue about if it's disgusting or not to fuck bricks.

I saw uncensored gay horses.

Suddenly, my phone turns off.

I press the power button, no response.

I hold the power button, no response.

>guhhhhhh

did my fucking phone justg brick it sself what the fuck

however im not even concerned about that any more as a strange mental fog sets in.

it feels like the type of mental fog i get as i'm ripping my first bowl of the day, but like way more out there

feels like my brain is gradually turning into a rock tumbler with a baszjillion small pebbles tumbling in it

feels like sum1 pouring milk all over my kitchen floor and i gotta fucking clean it up later

i try to think straight, but my mind is so fucking gay and contorted i cant evenm think straight

if thinking in lapslock was a thing this is probably how it feels

my mind is flogged by autism and retardation, and i think a billion things at once.

i think about what i jacked off to 6 hours ago

and what i beat off to 2 days ago

and 3 days ago

and the past week

damn bitch i honestly need some variety in my content smh

suddenly the mental fog shatters like glass, and i can feel the great wisps of hardcore pseudointellectualism flood my brain stem, as i instantly gain a hefty amount of iq.

i have now obtained 900 iq. i can do things with my mind

the first thing i do is shit myself.

righjt in my couche.

noononobdy can stop me from shitting in my couch, as i can just put it back in when i feel like it.

no more mental fog. i can finally think straight.

but i have been blessed with the power of great capability

however i am incapable at the same time

i cannot even communicate to myself

but i can somehow do things

i commandeer my body, and try to take it places

i instruct my devices to navigate to the kitchen so that i can disassemble a hotpocket down to its Moe leckyoular struktyre.

i  suddenly halt in my feeets and sotp moving, and this is all because i have spotted an intruder in my kitchen

i see 2 tall looming figures in my ckcitchen

what the fyucking shit

i dont have any room mates or anythang cuz i sold them for crack and internet money

so whoever these is aint isnt aint me friends or is aint isnt anyones i know of

i tighten my body, and prepare to engage the presumably hostile entities with a great war chant

"ubiraysya iz moyego doma, ty grebanyy gey-negr, otstalyy ublyudok, zajebiście cię zerżnę"

as i had spake and scrum in two foreign dialects, the two entities in unison turn around

hoyl fuck its scp-1471-a from scp foundation and fang from snoot game!!!!

wtf!!!!

the rubber looking pteradactyl stares into my soul and says something

"broke ass fool. you do not have any. food. dumbass. how do you not have any food. not even bread."

on the left, the tall, fur-swarthed entity, with deep white eyes and a skull mask also retorts a few words

"take this bitchs legs"

what

suddenly, my legs slide the fuck off my body.

i dont feel any pain, my legs just slide off.

wtf!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the blue rubber bird stares at me and yells

"eviscerate this dumbass."

suddenly, both 1471 and fang approach me, and rip my face off

i dont feel it still so im not like freaking out or anything

everything slowly turns to black

the last chapta

From a deep, visionless trance, I suddenly come to.

I can see again, and I can feel again.

My head fucking hurts,

my ass hurts,

my eyes throb,

and I am still on my couch.

I am still on my couch despite whatever the fuck just happened.

What in the actual fuck.

Honestly, that was a goated fucking trip.

I just summoned the two baddest fictional bitches into my house.

They fucking murdered me though.

If only I could harness this drug.

I get on my phone again, and look for the message app to see if I can text my goated ass new plug.

However, my ceiling begins to creak, and a person blasts out of a person sized hole in my roof.

"i am gyler toia."

The plug somehow crashed through my roof, directly in front of me.

He didn't even tumble, he just like, fell down standing.

Despite the fact repairing the roof is gonna be expensive as hel, (💀) I am kinda excited to see him.

Before I can even think of asking him for more of the sauce, in a consistent monotone voice, Gyler reads out the following words :

Interested in selling your home?

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