Knobulous Maximus, a member of lower
society: culminating in living off other people's scraps of attention, hardly considered human, an
excuse for an intake of our lasting effects of healthy oxygen.
Basically, a skinny fat fucker, who
one could unironically write tomes expressing their disdain for such a being, could possibly be comparable to a half-zygote grown primordial soup.
"Daz is quite the agricatoious wouldn't you say, Balmond?" perked
Jeremy from his low armchair in the corner of the mostly sedated room. The rain had just begun again, belatedly. Charles didn't commit much thought to
Jeremy's outbreak however wondered why the horse moaned like that the previous
thursday. The following morning he awoke in his shared dorm to the rain again: it was All Hallows Evening, a dark time in Charles' memoirs. His godfather had taken ill the previous holiday and died, Charles reminisced.