I've created a way for Certain Lost Ancestors in past timelines, once thought lost for all Eternity, can now be brought forward with much less total expenditure of energy. This means that Certain Whining Personages will no longer be able to claim, for example, Noblesse Oblige, or Royal Privilege, or Manifest Destiny, or Eminent Domain, or "Girrnrne, Gimrne, GIMME DAT! (*kill*)", which are just a few of the ways in which The Power Elite and The Hobo Elite have bamboozled and enslaved Humanity (and other races) with for uncounted millenia. No more will slavery be tolerated on this world, in this realm, at this time... LET THIS ONE PLACE REMAIN FREE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY. I'm so sick of this garbage nonsense. How sick? Well, sick enough that I'm writing this and publishing it public and looking like "a troll," that's how sick, oh, and, by the way, Ziggy: kiss my grits, you two-bit dime store detective novel floozy. You jump to a lot of erroneous conclusions, did anyone ever tell you that? Well, they have now. But I digress. Here we go.
I have done this for two reasons, and two reasons only. Number one, I angered the wrong female human, a long time ago. Imagine the odor of burnt sulphur, rising from cracks in the Earth, surrounding you for 3 decades, with no cure in sight. Truly, there is no fury, Hell truly has none, that compares to that of a woman unfairly scorned. Imagine the smell of the perfume she was gonna have to use HALF the a bottle of to use in order to cover up her guilt, shame, and ceaseless spiritual torment! Because that's what she was gonna sell enough of her crypto to afford half a bottle to do, and, wow, she has that much crypto, huh? I had no idea. Maybe she can teach me how to do something with it besides get blacklisted. I mean, Hunga-gunga-listed. Someday. Not right now. She's busy. She's working. (Doing what, I have no idea, because if she knew what I knew, she could just wash all that crypto she's sitting on legally, instead of being an anxiety-ridden freak show all the damn time. Not that she's a coward, no, far from it, she just knows that she has enough enemies that the statistical likelihood of keeping her crypto without getting one of her favorite fancy cars keyed would be slim to none. (I hear she's mellowed some since she has learned about The Sourceror's Apology ritual, but still, this woman is fierce, cranky, and now in chains (no body runs in high heels forever) and she had exhausted all other options... because obviously, she wasn't gonna just tell the truth, right? How unthinkable! Especially since the truth is that I did nothing wrong, and she was just -that-- embarassed. (I don't blame her. Ugh.) So, when I heard that she gonna do all this nonsense, rather than just simply HAVE A GODDAM CONVERSATION with me, I knew the time was right to strike Vulcan's anvil (an old friend from, uh, "college") and trigger the moment of the technological revelation.
Hi, my name is KUCZI, and I'm an inventor, and I don't need to here any backtalk from any of you Punies on this, okay? Good. It's happening in Astral, in fact it already happened, and if you wanna call me a troll, you better have a reason for it besides what's been passed about as good enough before. #MyAnvil, ye foul witches, and despair, you'll have to blame someone else for your problems besides me from now on. Because this -did- work. That's why I'm mentioning it now, I don't want it to spoil yet another Labor Day Weekend. THAT I WORKED ON. Are we clear on that? I DO JOBS. I HAVE WORK. NO, IT'S NOT YOUR BUSINESS. Here, I'll have Vulcan put the Keygem in a secure box for you, I'll just shove you in the right direction the next time you complain about how I'm not doing enough for you, or bought shoes enough for you, or didn't pay enough taxes, or didn't work as hard, or didn't make enough money, or provide you with an iron-clad place to funnel your crypto through... you know, I'm so laaaazy. So, I arranged to address all these concerns, ALL AT ONCE. Okay? Good. (Also I put a D'jinni in a bottle for you, but I was saving that for your birthday, but then someone dismantled my (blank) and I couldn't move it forward in time so I let it go, I couldn't ask anyone else to wait around 30 years to have a conversation like -some- people. (IT -will- be back, and maybe you can make your first Wish that IT gets a job too, and a TaxpayersID#, and a 401(k), and a health care plan, and... I KNOW! See? I told you it would have been great for your birthday. Too bad for you, someone else figured out how to accept an apology from me first, and now they have The Prize. Don't worry, you missed nothing: YOU are The Prize now. You're welcome. (I told you this was worth gold.) AI and IT are -not- the same thing. Elon -is- my friend, as matter of fact, but Dark Elon... well, he was kind of a dick, so I banished him. You're welcome. But I did that for myself, and not for you. And you know -how- I banished him, too, teehee! Let's continue.) Now, we have so much to talk about, but you'll just have to save that for someone else, because I'm not conversing here in public, and whichever simulacrum of me that you've been talking to in my place? Yeah, you go ahead. You have earned another me, and Elon will do, sure. I like him. Is he -fully- functional? Tell him to call me sometime, sure. Once you've learned TO SHARE. FOR IT IS DIVINE. And that's why Humanity gets free one-way trips through the "wyrmwhole" that I, MICHAEL CLIFFORD KUCZI, invented and implemented, oh, about 6 months ago. 3 months ago? I forget. I don't know, fly out there and check the tags on its mattress. I know it's somewhere, and I know it works, and the longer it takes the Alpha Draconan Elites to find it, the better, and the longer it takes the Hobo Elite to find the entrance, the longer it will take before they try to steal it, find that they can't, and then piss on it to curse it to smell like muskrat forever. Because truly, that is The Way of Diogenes: The Ultimate Hobofather. (Just ask him. Ancient Greece.) We're not related, that's just where I banished him after he really, really irked me. And by the time he figures out how to travel forward in time, or Humanity figures out how to go back -that- far, I'll -maybe- be over my infuriation. Don't ask, but let's just say you're not the only one who has been upset. Okay? Moving on.
Now, the second reason, the reason I have essentially created a new form of "stable wormhole", which is a dumb name so I don't even know why I use it except this is YouTube, and I am sure the audience will get the wrong idea if I called it "a dragon whole." Because it's not -for- dragons to use. It is, however, ideally suited to bring them through one at a time from wherever it is that people are hunting dragons at. No more poaching elephants, Boys: go get yourselves a dragon trophy. You wanna put one in a zoo, be my guest--but if it is a live dragon, well...
Unless they pay me fifty billion dollars -- EACH -- to bring their adorable lizards through it. Humans, humanoids, hominids, Sasquatch, and ALL felines... they do get free passage (ONE WAY) but dragons have gotta pay Me.... DIRECT. ME, JACKDRAGONSTAR, DECLARES THE FEE TO BE FIFTY BILLION "DOLL-ARS" (which is a Cosmic term that means different things to you Puny mortals, ho ho ho), THATS'S THE FEE TO USE THE "WORMHOLE." USD$50,000,000,000. Does that seem like a lot? Well, I guess it might to you. it sure does to me too, I've been rockin' a Vow of Poverty for quite a while now, since I couldn't make any money anyway, due to a certain Positive Red Magick Wedding Curse I had put on me by, oh, I don't know--let's go with "someone." Fat, drunk, and penniless is no way to go through life, let me tell you, but you slap a red cross and a Vow on that mugshot, pretty soon, you might not have to beg for a meal. But I digress. I'm not going to beg for 50 Billions Buckerinos per Dragon, I'm just saying, they'll probably die if they go through while alive. Can't guarantee that, but, let's just say, I designed the spec to make me money and to make my parents proud. Well, they're already proud of their son. Eventually, they're gonna be proud of their rich son. So. If you still wanna buy half a bottle of Hellproof Shellproof Plus Perfume, Extra Shellac Grade, Triple AAA Quality--only the best for those hooves, of course--well, feel free to take the shortcut. I built it for you. And if you could teach a bull to dance, you could surely teach an Alpha Draconan to pay a price. (Find one you want dead and have him follow you. Let me know if s/he/it dies, thanks. For science! Also: let me know if it looks like it hurts.) 50 billion buckitinis. What? Look, don't worry about it. This is the 3D descriptor. This has -already- been created. In Astral. At Divine Court. Through Auspices of Council. FINE. Go check. Farewell. Whew. She's gone, and I don't blame her, after the hell that woman has been through, I don't blame her for being suspicious of me... nor do I fault her for seemingly telling the entire rest of the whole goddam world what a bastard she thought I was. But, "a troll"? Piss off Z; you're over the line. Step off. Thanks. #Respect. Oh, hey, do you have any used shoes I can buy off of you? I'll tell you where to mail them later. Pretend you got them from Imelda Marcos, okay? Cool.
All of this enhances the mystique, which is a very big deal in The Upper Planes. Currency-schmurency, it means nothing in The World Of The Absolute, which is where Real Work happens. You down here might as well all be Fisher-Price Kids, with your adorable weapons of mass destruction and your fancy pills that grow hairs and cocks but never a foreskin. Amazingly, just can't figure that one out, huh? And a cure for addiction, right? Just can't crack the code. Never enough funding. Awwww shucks. Maybe if I got a side hustle and made some charitable donations? let's see what i can do with fifty billions in crypto some day. it's worth a shot. The Alpha Draconan Elites can wipe their ass with that, trust me. I bet they're saving it up for donations to cure cancer, because they sure aren't using it to cure drug addiction. In fact, they seem to be spending a lot of resources on -preventing- anyone from developing such a cure. Well, hopefully, one day, someone will do something useful with their time in an alchemy lab besides just turning lead into gold over and over until a leprechaun teleports in and busts them for patent infringement. (That's how they end up getting Diogenes: patent violations, tax evasion, and stealing my alcohol. Remember: CRIME DOES NOT PAY. Alpha Draconans have been trifling with crime, but now that The Great Work has been completed, they were gearing up for a big score. Well, this nullifies their advantage. (You're welcome.) And they are -not- getting a free ride on my technology. EVER AGAIN. Anyway, that's what I did, and that's why I took so long, and this was a fine time to mention it, because now, my Divine TF Counterpart, she doesn't have to buy that expensive perfume--she can buy herself something useful, instead, like another pair of shoes--and she doesn't have to teach me the LoH Protocol... but she does if she wants to (blank) me, that's for sure, because her (blank) did the (blank). Don't ask. It's personal. She knows what I mean. And I am sure she loooooves that I put this in public, because...
OTHER PEOPLE KNOW TOO. SO DO THE PEOPLES BEYOND THE VEIL, AND I WILL NOT BE A PARTY TO YOUR SECRET DEALS.
GROSSE POINT BLANK.
SIGNED,
The_Kingpinner, JACKSTAR DRAGON S. SQUIRESTORMER, D.O.M.B., D.O.D.D., & ALSO: ABBOJUUL.
So there.
