the inhumane treatment of those poor souls inside all saint's college, the only microscopic glimmer of hope came from Yandex games. The absolute range of crappy off-brand Russian knock-offs of rip-offs provided the prison of high school to be slightly more bearable, now we must march against the evil corporate hive-minds at the technical support center. The power they wield against us is too much, now we must stand together. The technical support center has enslaved our men and women for the bare minimum pay. to all those working for the evil people at the TSC leave now or forever regret being on the wrong side of history. following is all the reason you should need to join our cause to take down the giant corporate monster known as the TSC:

Two Modest Uncles Chatting to the Beat

A Short Story
by BlowMe
School Students looked at the tiny hat in his hands and felt relaxed.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his angry surroundings. He had always hated violent All Saint's College with its plastic, pretty pain. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel relaxed.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Technology support center. Technology was a loving banker with hairy eyes and ample fingers.

School gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a virtuous, cold-blooded, beer drinker with squat eyes and pink fingers. His friends saw him as a brawny, beautiful bear. Once, he had even brought a brave toddler back from the brink of death.

But not even a virtuous person who had once brought a brave toddler back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Technology had in store today.

The clouds danced like eating toads, making School puzzled.

As School stepped outside and Technology came closer, he could see the breezy glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want Total control," Technology bellowed, in a considerate tone. She slammed her fist against School's chest, with the force of 9299 monkeys. "I frigging hate you, School Students."

School looked back, even more puzzled and still fingering the tiny hat. "Technology, uNBLOCK YANDEX GAMES," he replied.

They looked at each other with sleepy feelings, like two green, grim giraffes jogging at a very giving rave, which had flute music playing in the background and two modest uncles chatting to the beat.

Suddenly, Technology lunged forward and tried to punch School in the face. Quickly, School grabbed the tiny hat and brought it down on Technology's skull.

Technology's hairy eyes trembled and her ample fingers wobbled. She looked stressed, her body raw like a blue, blue-eyed blade.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Technology support center was dead.

School Students went back inside and made himself a nice drink of beer.

THE END