Bummer. He had the aquarium scheduled for

Bummer. He had the aquarium scheduled for 7 am and here he was, up at 3, on folding story, hoping to buffer his digital superiority over untold strangers on a quest for righteous

indignation. For he, was the brightest of the bunch when it came to creative off-the-cuff folds. Why did insomnia inspire a chance to lord it over amateur hacks?

A voice under his bed spoke to him... "Because of me, that's why..." He was semi-conscious, straddling the fence of sleep & composing folds. The voice under his bed hissed, "Write

what I say, or I'll take you over. The good news is that you won't have to suffer that crappy job anymore. Besides that, you won't be you. Deal?" The folder under the bed vexed me

.He kept swearing every 4 minutes when he didn't finish his fold. As a FoldingStory Mentor, I did whatever it took to help fledgling folders but he'd been under my bed for 2 days

folding like a little dirt devil. To write fold's faster I created a fold-bot that data-scraped Reddit and splattered nonsense into the folds which made FoldingStory Mentor really

angry. FoldingStory Mentor was all like, "Folding Stories are works of love! You cannot leave it to machines!" Next thing I knew Mentor's screws were coming loose and

his arms were falling off! FoldingStory Mentor was begging me to put him back together. "I can't reach the one between my sholders, I need you." Now I had an edge. How should I

stick them together? Should I sedate him or operate directly? Terrible it seems to me. Never have I seen a patient in such a terrible condition. Hope he gets

well after this surgery." The family was sweating while waiting for her , she was having a disease called ebola...