And Vorsprung entered this thread, full of vim and vigor due to news of TF2 updates.
He came to Team9000 to share his happiness with his subjects, hopeful for some faithful conversation with his peers.
Glancing upon the main page, he noticed a thread.
"This looks promising," the godly Pyro thought to himself, and he entered the thread.
Soon, his optimism faded, seeing the thread was doomed.
It was a nightmare.
There was teenage drama on a scale Vorsprung had never quite seen before.
"I thought this was only Facebook myth," deigned he.
He glanced upon the poster, noticing that she was quite tappable, but then realised that he's a demigod, and that he is too great for her.
He then noticed that some desperate, soapy soul had already married her.
This was a truly shocking turn of events.
Vorsprung was unhappy.
"Perhaps the remainder of this thread has some laughability," the noble Australian man thought.
But no. The thread continued in a downwards spiral of badness.
One sentence posts.
Useless comments.
Ponies out of the pony thread.
Vorsprung had taken too much.
This was an awful thread.
He had to take action.
He clasped his Highly Sexual Meatswaganator with his wanking hand, crying the most manly of tears behind his rubber mask.
With a thought, he torched the thread.
The fire spread.
T9K was covered in fire.
Vorsprung basked in the melancholy glow of his own creation.
The ember coals of Team9000 then spread to Google.
Soon, the whole internet was on fire.
Just on the dawn of MvM.
Suddenly, the fire continued out into the real world.
Lava and fireworks consumed the world, destroying everything,
Everything died in a hellish inferno.
Fire spread through space on waves of spaghetti, turning nebulas to blood and brimstone.
Vorsprung, at the epicenter of this blast, pulsed with waves of power.
The universe had to pay for this teenage crap.
Heat waves spread across galaxies,
Across superclusters,
Consuming even suns and black holes,
Lighting the universe with a blaze of pure sadness and fury.
Hats flew across the event horizon.
Gaben looked on in approval, watching from another realm of existance, cuddling a copy of HL3.
The blaze continued on.
Time, space, gravity; all consumed by the blaze.
Magma power covering all; reality itself was burning.
The Meatswaganator still pulsing out propane into the mattersphere.
Positrons and atoms were being turned into pure energy,
Antimatter being sublimated into fire,
Carbon, smoke and gimpsuits flooding the plane of mystic existentialism,
And tears blotting out the cries of pain emanating from the planets.
Vorsprung sighed, and had a last wank.
It was a good 20 minutes.
Then, with an almighty blast,
He exploded his cladded behind into shreds of pure power,
Ripping apart everything.
Everything died.
Everything ceased to exist.
The emptiness closed in on itself.
The sanguine smell in the air did not remain;
Hence, nothing remained.
All was silent.
All was still.
All was quiet.
All was finally at peace.
Welcome to Team9000, enjoy your stay.
