Shannon typed "GayOpsiWinson" and pressed enter, as he leaned back with the smuggest of smirks contorting through the groves in the flesh of his face....
He had done it! He had caught the notorious Godwinson. And he had done it all by himself! He didn't need any Anon's praise. He was the man who could achieve the results that Ralph wanted. He caught that person! The notorious idol of the image boards! Red Handed! The thought alone made his chest palpitate in furious vigor that he had not experienced since he had imagined the warmth of a blonde Puerto Rican's loving embrace. He silently chuckled to himself, his fat rolls threatening to constrict the arteries of his heart, he leaned to his side to grab the bottle of Gatorade from the floor.
As he lifted back up into his chair relieving a joyous grunt, he realized that the bottle was empty. He threw it across the room, aiming for the pile of empty bottles some of which had been lying around for 2 weeks, waiting to be brought to the trash.
He coughed and for a brief frightening moment thought "Cardiac Arrest". As he slowly lifted his mass from the worn-out chair, wiggling to release the adhesive bonding the sweat had formed between his flesh and the wood, he stomped off into a quest for a new full bottle.
After having searched through a pile of bottles filled with piss, he returned five minutes later. Steadily slipping back into the chair. Carefully, less the chair break under the momentum that his 600-pound body could create in a sudden loss of composure to gravity. The now cooled down sweat briefly bringing a moment of cooling refreshment tingling down his spine.
He glanced at the digital clock next to his screen, and through the lairs of several months of dust, he could make out what time it was. But not that the time mattered. He pushed his hand through a forest of empty candy rappings to reach for the mouse. Steadily maneuvering his fingers into a position that would allow him to click without having his fat fingers roll the mouse wheel. Finally succeeding he scrolled down a thread that had become occupied by these vile people who had made fun of Ralph. Those people, hiding behind the cowardice known as anonymity, had the audacity of claiming that they were more successful than him. That they were smarter than him. That just by laughing at him they were right! And he... was wrong. He attempted to resist his deep inner urge to reply after reading post after post after post mocking his appearance, demeanor, his intelligence, his occupation, the sound of his voice, and everything he had been saying.
But one post, in particular, attracted his attention. It was a screencap, from his private discord server, where he had typed mere minutes before. The poster revealed, that the user who talked about Godwinson contacting his much desired and beloved Kirsten, had in fact, been incorrect. Shanon's face turned pale. As pale as a man who bearly saw 2 hours of sunlight a week could get. He had not expected this.
But his plan had been so perfect! How could they! How could he, the based Shanon himself, have fallen for such an obvious rouse! All the built-up anxiety came crashing back through as he silently shed a tear. Alone. In his one-bedroom apartment.