gosh I hate anyone who sells “smash” burgers like that.
4 Likes
Perhaps the creator of such a lovely item is merely a enthusiast of Chousoku Parahero GandD. (Who is quite the cool character…)
3 Likes
For some C U R S E D imagery
So, this morning I saw a sus, absolutely bamboozle-brained, giga-sus, ultra-sus, mega-sus, astronomically sus, cartoonishly sus, questionably sus, wildly sus, profoundly sus, aggressively sus, 118795438684-meter-wide sus deranged pigeon waddling around like a tax-evading meatball with feathers, unresolved emotional damage, and a deeply sus attitude problem, doing the most suspiciously sus little goblin shuffle ever witnessed by human eyeballs, like it had just escaped from the Department of Extremely Sus Activities and was now freelancing as a full-time public menace. This wasn’t just a normal sus pigeon. Oh no. This was a premium-grade, deluxe-edition, family-size, industrial-strength sus pigeon with extra sus on top and a side order of advanced sus, the kind of sus that makes other sus things stop, stare, and whisper, “wow… that’s really sus.” It was waddling left and right and sideways and somehow diagonally too, like a confused shopping cart possessed by the ghost of a tax accountant, all while radiating an aura of maximum sus so powerful it could probably be detected from space by government satellites specifically designed to monitor severe outbreaks of nonsense.
And then — AND THEN — this absurdly sus, bamboozle-brained, cosmic-level sus deranged pigeon started violently, aggressively, catastrophically, dramatically, theatrically, suspiciously, and extremely sus-fully SLAMMINGTON BONKEROONIE-ing the door like it personally had generational beef with the concept of hinges, a lifelong vendetta against doorknobs, a legally dubious grudge against wood, and a 47-page, single-spaced, deeply sus complaint letter addressed to the International Council of Door-Related Injustices. It wasn’t just knocking. It wasn’t even banging. No, this feathery sus goblin was full-on bonking that door with the energy of a microwave that’s been forced to reheat spaghetti for the seventh time, like it had spent its whole suspicious little life preparing for this exact moment of architectural warfare. Every slam was somehow more sus than the last. Every bonk had the emotional weight of a courtroom drama. Every thud sounded like the physical manifestation of unresolved sus nonsense.
The pigeon kept waddling back, puffing itself up all sus-like, then charging forward again with the determination of a feral meatball in a business dispute, just absolutely yeeting its entire suspicious feathered being into the door as if the door had personally insulted its ancestors, stolen its lunch money, rejected its mortgage application, and laughed at its deeply sus dreams. And the expression on this creature’s face? Unfathomably sus. Monumentally sus. The kind of sus face that says, “I know something terrible, ridiculous, and probably illegal, and I will not be explaining myself.” Its beady little eyes were glowing with the energy of a creature that had never once known peace, reason, or appropriate indoor behavior. It looked like it had a spreadsheet full of grudges and every single row was labeled “door.”
Honestly, the whole situation was so sus that the air itself felt uncomfortable. The walls looked sus by association. The floor seemed sus for allowing this to happen. Even the doorknob looked like it was questioning its career path. This pigeon was so unbelievably, catastrophically, offensively sus that if susness were a competitive sport, this feathery disaster would have won gold, silver, bronze, and several medals from entirely different competitions it hadn’t even entered. It had the posture of a villain, the confidence of a confused raccoon, the grace of a tumbling ottoman, and the raw unfiltered sus energy of a creature that absolutely should not be trusted with access to keys, paperwork, or any form of civil infrastructure.
And the longer I watched, the sussier it got. It would pause dramatically, like it was gathering its sus thoughts, then do another bizarre little waddly goblin stomp and absolutely resume its deranged campaign of door-based destruction with renewed sus passion. At one point it genuinely looked like it was muttering something under its breath, probably more sus allegations against hinges, probably plotting new and innovative acts of deeply stupid architectural harassment. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had a full conspiracy board somewhere with red string connecting doorknobs, floorboards, windows, mailboxes, and several unrelated household objects in one enormous web of deeply personal, absolutely unhinged, aggressively sus paranoia.
In conclusion, this was not merely a sus pigeon. This was the final boss of sus. The emperor of sus. The CEO of suspicious nonsense. A feathered monument to chaos, confusion, and deeply committed door hatred. A tax-evading, hinge-opposing, doorknob-despising, bamboozle-brained, mega-sus goblin meatball with wings, waddling around with enough concentrated sus energy to power a small city for three to five business days. And as far as I know, it is probably still out there right now, somewhere, being unbelievably sus, plotting fresh acts of bonk-based nonsense, and maintaining its ancient, dramatic, wildly disproportionate beef with that poor innocent door.
2 Likes
This is too C U R S E D. Too sus
2 Likes
what a throwback, it’s 2020 all over again
4 Likes
you’re behind man
3 Likes
Isn’t “cop that” a really old expression? I’ve seen it in detective fiction from the 1930s…
7 Likes
“Shego! Find me another copy, I think this one’s outdated. SHEGO! What do you mean there aren’t any physical copies left? Everything can’t be digital yet, the kids still have to read something when the power is out!“
“Alright. Perhaps an army of teens isn’t worth it anymore. I’ll try the A.I. assistants instead. I think I’ll call it, Drak.“
I would think you speak of the term “copper“. However, if this is true, yet another terrible destruction of a rather meager term.
5 Likes
So, looking it up, the use of “cop” as a slang verb meaning “to grab or take” has been a thing in Britain since the early 1700s. Popularity of that usage picked up in the 1900s, which is where most references involving “copping” something originated.
It was associated with police in the mid 1800s as a reference to the duty of police to seize contraband and criminals (as well as a reference to the fact that many police uniforms featured copper decorations prominently).
6 Likes
Ya see, she don’t not had all’ve her ingredients, ya see. Squeakers and somethin’ else that I shouldn’ not no sayee. Now, ya see, no goin’ was goin’ in this ol’ long thing, ya see. Ya see, she took long time, ya see. Ya see, and the resultee, ya see, was actually somethin’ awesomee.
What have I written 
2 Likes
That’s genius right there fr fr no cap ong
5 Likes
Rocka 3.0 is beginning to realize he got on the wrong bus
5 Likes
This would actually be a pretty cool eldritch horror centipede if the colors weren’t random.
5 Likes
Tren Krom’s true form
5 Likes
What?! This isn’t cursed!
Actually, it IS a little cursed…
WAIT A SECOND, is that title a Mask of Light Rebridged reference?!
1 Like
i don’t get it what’s cursed
3 Likes