I'm here today to tell you about an apartment building I used to own. (Note the use of the word ‘USED’). That had a dark secret hidden within its walls. (Just above my room to be exact). Everything about it seemed normal, UNTIL one night ‘bout two months ago.

I was lying in bed after just having masturbated to MLP. No sorry, MLG. And I noticed strange noises coming from the room above me. Sounds of… Banging…

This continued to happen for two nights (YES, nights only), when I decided ‘FUCK THIS SHIT!’ and committed mass genocide. NAH, that’s too happy an ending.

I walked up to room 69D and knocked on the door. (Yes its room number is 69, we have a fucking tall apartment building so…) The noises ceased.

“STFU FGT.” I say, not wanting to offend anyone. I walk back down to my room and I could’ve sworn I heard weeping in the BG…

A few days later, the people were back at it again. All night I could hear banging noises accompanied with… other noises. This was getting on mai teetz, so I went down to the reception desk and I got the paperwork to fill out a noise complaint form. I filled it out and handed it back to the bitch at reception. She looked at me with a worried look.

“69D is vacant. You’ve been smoking the marijuana haven’t you?” This offended me so much. As much as that YouTube comment someone put on my video did. A LOT. Yes, I had been smoking the stuff, mostly while wanking over Faze… But that’s another story. I knew for a fact that room was NOT vacant. NOT.VACANT.

I asked her what room was above 69C and she said 69D. I went back to my room sexually frustrated, and in need of some ‘alone time’.

Over the next few days, I tried to ignore the noise. I did everything to distract myself from the noises. Listen to music, play vidya gaems, look up gay porn… EVERYTHING. NOTHING HELPED.

BUT. One night I woke up.

NO. Not because of the banging, but because of something dripping onto my face. I got out of bed and turned on the light, only to find a clear, white, sticky liquid dripping onto the sheets. I had no idea what it was. I HAD WORK AT ANN SUMMERS TOMMORROW FOR FUCKS SAKE. (I’M A MAN BUT THEY WERE DESPERATE K!?!?1!/1!?!?1!?1!?1!?1).

I WAS AND STILL AM FUCKED OFF. They called a repair man and he fixed whatever was causing the problem. However, he seemed to be mentally traumatised after all of this, but the leak was fixed so why should I care?

A week later, the banging was even louder than befoe. So the next day I decided to steal the key to room 69D after drugging everyone with LSD infested dognuts.

That nite, I wenet into the room slowly unlocking the door. What I found inside was shocking.

There was a gay sex party going on.


I ran to the door only to realise it was locked.

I now realised why when I drugged the staff they were talking about sexy times with Freddy Fazbear and Jimmy Savile. I was gon get raepd!

They grabbed me and tried to drag me to the kinky sex table in the middle of the room. This is my fate, to be mentally traumatised…

“U R REDY 4 FREDY. I CAN C EET IN UR EYZE.” Freddy says to me. I get ready to embrace this experience.

A loud BOOM can be heard. I see Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi and other people from the Islamic State. Would they possibly be my saviours?

“UR NOT IN ISIS SO U DIE.” He blew up the whole building, and everyone except me died.

I joined ISIS the next day.

Thank you AL-Baghdadi. I now see the truth…