He was a melancholic phlegmatic with a mission:

He was a melancholic phlegmatic with a mission: have the lowest score on FoldingStory. After months of research he had discovered that the folds that got the least amount of points

were of 7 words or less, completely unrelated to the previous fold, and offensive. For example, to "Frowning, Sally gently shampooed the furry ball creature with" he would add:

"Jorge Titsworth, watching, masturbating, & laughing." It made no sense, but strangely, other foldsters voted for his folds. Truth be told, he was a passive-aggressive folder. He

-Man and the Masters of the Universe!. Wow! Childhood cartoon slogan turrets just interrupted my fold.

"Can't you do that somewhere else?" I said and did a faceplam. That big idea I was working on went out the window with He-man's might declaration: "I. HAVE. THE POWER!"

The Krell machinery picked up the bassline to "I. HAVE. THE POWER!" He-Man was somewhat outnumbered by all the buxom heroes flashing their nips. But not Picard. My faceplam

Son you fell asleep on the #81 bus and woke up in a cat cafe, having become one yourself. The table you slept on was unoccupied until your mum, a tortoiseshell herself, asked you

"What kind of cat mother had she been to allow you to become a cat cafe that slept on a table that she shared with her mother who questioned her own mothering." You thought that un

-derneath that odd statement was some sort of trueism. You pondered every word of it for months until you went completely mad. And then you understood. Oh yes, you understood.