🦊 Furry Furry Art Freak Show - From ungodly eyesores to nauseating masterpieces

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I hate that most gore art and stuff is objectively good from the standpoint of the purpose of horror. Like, someone could look at it and go "haha, ew," if they enjoy horror content, which many do.
But the art isn't made to just be horror genre. It's made to actually get people off. These people could be making graphic novels that tell dark stories but they're doing this.
 
I hate that most gore art and stuff is objectively good from the standpoint of the purpose of horror. Like, someone could look at it and go "haha, ew," if they enjoy horror content, which many do.
But the art isn't made to just be horror genre. It's made to actually get people off. These people could be making graphic novels that tell dark stories but they're doing this.
I’ve heard it said that eroticism and horror are very closely linked, that disgust and intrigue are two sides of the same coin. Think Giger and such.
The people who said this never considered the furries.
 
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Dracovar with more autistic essays. At least there's no smegma in this one:
View attachment 2188270
Another lovely commission for
! And a very fun one at that, partially because to me, tightness is overrated when it comes to a good fuck! I find holes that have seen some (and by "some," I mean "a LOT") of use to have way more potential for fun than one that just milks you as quickly and efficiently as possible. I could go on and on about why, but that's irrelevant because it's totally subjective and I'm not in the business of changing your mind. =P All you need to know is that loose, baggy, gaping tailholes that can barely close on their own are HOT.


And so is Spyro. It'd be a safe bet calling him my favorite video game dragon! And Delbin is certainly a top-tier elder for sure! And an artist to boot... there's probably a secret castle hovel filled with paintings of Spyro bent over with his rump in the air, getting his cute, yellow sphincter spread open by all manners of appendages with a flushed countenance that just begs to have his tail stretched and used beyond normal means for the pleasure of larger, older males. In which case, Delbin and I would have a lot to talk about!

He knows as well as any other artist that all great art stems from inspiration. You know, things that really get the mind jogging. Things like Spyro's purple booty bounding around the fields of the dragon realm, which is certainly thought-provoking enough to capture the gaze of some dragons who enjoy watching him going as much as coming, if you know what I mean! The ones who like to take a quick peek under the tail just to see if Spyro's goods are as bouncy as the hips they're attached to (and spoiler alert: they are!). But you know what is even MORE though-provoking? How that small pucker nestled where tail meets taint has, over time, turned from a recessed little star, into a plump, fleshy, wrinkly mass. What happened to his asshole that made it look that way? Almost seems like it's been undergoing some kind of treatment resulting in added bulk and lessened elasticity...

But boy, are the other elders tight-lipped about it! Most of them claim to know nothing of the subject, saying they avoid glancing at Spyro's nether regions even when given the chance (though the blushing and stammering some exhibit gives reason to doubt, but who wants to risk looking like a creep by pressing the subject?). The few who admit to stealing glances at Spyro's privates may have noticed, but simply state their guess is as good as anyone else's. It's probably no one's business anyway, and Spryo has more than earned the respect of those to whom he is a hero.

Though he does seem to disappear for hours with Cedric while visiting the Magic Crafters' world... Cedric just says that his magical potions work could always use the extra set of paws. Never thought Spyro was the chemist type, but Cedric simply regards him as "a good subject."

Sometimes Spyro will do routine training with Gunnar, who comments on their exercises with, "He's damn durable for his size, I'll say that! The kind who gets knocked flat on his tail and comes right back for more! But that's how we Peacekeepers roll. Give it as much as you can 'til you've reached your limit, then give a little bit more!"

Much of Spyro's trips to the Beast Makers' world is spent with Cyprin, who only has this to say about their shared time: "I would make a million of him if I could."

And what about his frequent sessions with Lateef and Alban? Lateef elaborates, "Little Spyro has been to many worlds, and seen many wondrous things! The way his adventures have shaped his dreams are a topic of fascinating research for me. He merely details them to me, I analyze them, and diligent Alban records them for posterity." But when asked to see the actual records, Alban becomes rather stiff-necked. "The details of our trysts are private, and a matter of trust which I shan't breach." Although, upon further inquiry about his choice of wording, Alban snaps back, "'Tryst' has more than one definition. Allow me to provide a less vulgarian example: 'YOU could benefit from a few trysts with me, should you seek a less circumscribed lexicon.'"

A mystery indeed! But those little mysteries are like crack to an artist. An artist will want to seize those notions, those fleeting, minuscule bits of life and the world around them that stings their minds like a needle's prick to amplify and embellish them so the whole world may be confronted with them! Much like how Spyro's formerly tight, sunken little butthole seems to become thicker, more protuberant, and leakier with each passing week. A topic of great fascination, albeit too taboo to discuss in casual conversation. Can you see how that would be just the PERFECT subject for some artists? Especially when most artworks of dragonkind's paragons are more intent on depicting their majesty, strength, and wisdom rather than their genitals, no matter how impressive they may be. SOMEONE has to capture their beauty!

That's why Delbin's secret gallery is full of highly-detailed paintings of the most overlooked sides of his kin. The shaft of Halvor's penis, which, despite such thick and rigid plating on his underbelly, still manages to retain such distinct and rounded vasculature all along its surface. Asher's scrotum, which, whether a result of his genes or his age, sags lower than most other dragons-- so much so it's a question whether or not he's ever kicked it by accident. The rotund shape of Isaak's foreskin that barely allows any definition of the glans within to show at all.

But the most frequent, and most favorite object of Delbin's paintings is the asshole of the realm's little brave purple hero. Not only do they detail the engrossing, yet unusual reshaping of Spyro's tailpipe, they also include all manners of things that can be done with Spyro's limp, loose anus!

Things like using his colon as a pouch for gems-- and an overflowing one at that, as some of the scintillating treasure spills out due to a lack of binding to seal the entrance.

A pair of claws effortlessly pulling Spyro's anal ring open so the mucousy strings stretching across his cavernous, carmine bowels glisten in the sunlight.

A draconian arm reaching inside of Spyro's rump all the way to the elbow, distending his yellow belly from within, and the budding erection Spyro gets from the pressure on his prostate.

A submerged erect penis smacking its length along the inner walls of Spyro's rectum simply because it has enough wiggle room inside to do so.

A claw hoisting Spyro's backside upward by the tail while the other yanks his overused shitter open by the base as a stream of yellow fluid pours into and fills the cauldron created by his gaping anal orifice.

All of which are possible explanations for the strange state of Spyro's visibly-worked hole... and all conceived by Delbin, often while gripping his own dragonhood and rumbling Spyro's name in growling whispers. He hopes that one day, every one of his secret paintings can become a reality. That some day, he will know what perverse activity-- or person, or even persons-- gave Spyro's anus such a decadently-expanded and slackened shape that even a fully-erect elder dragon could slip his member inside before Spryo would even notice. That some day, he will be able to paint Spyro's beautiful, fattened, drippy, capacious tail-cave from real-life reference rather than memory based on quick and shy glimpses...

... Actually, that's not a bad idea. In fact, it may even be a GREAT idea! Delbin can invite Spyro to model for a painting that conveniently includes his "better side", providing the perfect opportunity to become more enlightened, more familiar, and more intimate with the hero of the dragon realm's most luscious pucker! And who knows where it may lead. Even if Delbin doesn't find out who or what gave Spyro the flaccid fuckhole he has, he can definitely make it even more of a wrinkly, frictionless mess. Whether by cock, or claw, or paw, or maw.

Wish him luck!
I'm so full from Subway Yum!
 
I recognize a few of the characters there. Funny how a lot of the same folk keep popping up here since they tend to commission the worst of the worst stuff.
it's inevitable that the red/black lizard character, whose name is Furx, to be in gore art.
 
I have to hand it to Dracovar, he's the only artist who can consistently make me shrink from my monitor in disgust:
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I love Looney Tunes. They were the first cartoons I ever watched, and from the looks of things, they'll be the last cartoons I'll ever watch! I often say that my first crush was Wile E. Coyote, because he was a the first character who made me feel like I wanted to be close to him without knowing why. Be close to him, befriend him, comfort him, fawn over him, and, strangely enough for the time, smell him. Pretty odd thing to fantasize about at that age, but it was what it was. He was only the first, though, because that fascination extended to others, primarily Daffy Duck and Sylvester! Was it because those three were always on the receiving end of beats, snaps, bangs, and slams? I don't really question it. Because all that matters is that I loved them then, and I love them now. The only difference is now I wanna fawn over them AND their cocks.

Daffy is just so petty, impulsive, selfish, greedy, and arrogant, and I LOVE it. He is the id we all wish we could indulge in whether life demands joy, anger, or any other form of gratification. Just like how we all long to coddle those base impulses he represents, I long to coddle Daffy exactly the same way! Probably to an unhealthy degree. I would indulge and reward EVERY-SINGLE-ONE of his bad behaviors every second of the day. Fuel his already-overblown ego, reward his rampant avarice, encourage his emotional compulsions, and make him believe he is in the right on every single occasion-- ESPECIALLY when he knows it's wrong. I just find those aspects of that deranged duck as sexy as his speech impediment! You heard me. I said Daffy's speech impediment is sexy as FUCK. Maybe I'm just attracted to the kind of bad boy who's always in it for himself. I mean, come on, he's a cartoon character that's an exaggeration of unrestrained behavior! By pushing him over the edge, you're only making Daffy even DAFFIER! And if fulfilling his delusions of grandeur are what get Daffy's cock hard and wet, I will make him feel like the king of the world when he gets his way and let him take his anger out on me when he doesn't! Watch out, Sylvester; if he's taken an interest in you, you'll either be thick as thieves or have a worthy rival!

But Sylvester. Sweet, sweet Sylvester. Like Daffy, he's always trying to get ahead, but unlike Daffy, he rarely ever makes it past square one. He's a filthy, desperate, dumpster-dwelling alley cat motivated wholly by his nature. Though his actions may appear needlessly cruel, at heart, all he really wants is a full belly and a little peace and quiet. He only asks for the bare minimum from life, and yet he is STILL constantly denied. And what are the bare minimum things that we are put on this planet to do? To eat, sleep, and fuck. If he were my cat, I would ensure Sylvester's cup runneth over for all three. Even though he probably stinks to high Hell of old tuna cans, I'd bathe him from head to paw in the only manner befitting for a cat, if you catch my drift! From his cruddy muzzle, to his matted belly fur, to his grungy cock, to his dingy balls, to his greasy tailhole, all the way to his grimy paws. That down-on-his-luck kitty deserves to feel like a king. He fends for himself pretty well, but I don't think he'd say no! Unfortunately for him, just like when he's looking for shelter or a particularly annoying canary, it appears Sylvester's in over his head in this particular situation. Buddy, if you're looking for a good time, it's definitely cheap and easy to find one with Daffy and Wile E. Coyote, but you know what they say about there being no such thing as a free lunch! I hear those two are, after all, quite daffy and wily...

And Wile. Oh, Wile. As the years have gone by, my fondness for you has only grown. He's another fella who just can't catch a break, though his failings are more self-inflicted rather than from adversity. He is like a combination of the previous two, a driven egotist who often overestimates his capability, and yet still deserving of sympathy. Sure, he may be emaciated and disheveled from endlessly pursuing the one thing he can't have, but that's what I call "Looking for love in all the wrong places." If Wile's going to spend his days chasing down one bird, it should be me! Not that he'd have to do MUCH chasing, but if it gets him salivating and yearning, I'm willing to do it. I can play hard to get! But unlike that tease of a Roadrunner, his efforts WILL be rewarded! And when they are, I want him to give me everything he has-- and I mean E V E R Y T H I N G. Force his prize to spend hours just tending to his dirty coyote hole, and I'm NOT talking about his den. Revel in his accolade by marking his trophy as his territory with repeated coats of his pungent, golden piss. Deliver his just desserts by forcing his helpless quarry to clean his sweaty, jam-caked toes that have been sullied by the chase. Force his prey to prepare for the inevitable by slavering all over every stinking inch of his skanky, vile cock, including his fur-clumped, sweat-soured, flea-ridden pubes and ballsack. And best of all, there is no fear of Wile ever giving up the chase, because if there is any word to describe that wretched specimen, it is "insatiable". Sylvester, sitting where you are right now, if you think you've been roughed up in the past, you ain't seen NOTHIN' yet.

And I guess that's why I've come to see you, doctor. Parents won't let me back in their will until I've at least talked to you. I know determining if people are "crazy" is a pretty gross exaggeration of what you actually do, but can you sign this paper saying I'm not? I can pay you in oysters.
 
Sorry for the double post, but since it's the one year anniversary of St. George of Floyd's passing I had to post this touching tribute:
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Some other shit:
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I have to hand it to Dracovar, he's the only artist who can consistently make me shrink from my monitor in disgust:
[/SPOILER]
Y'know he's actually a pretty good writer if you completely disregard the subject matter or what led him to actually put this into words.

I'd be willing to bet he has a self-published novel on Amazon somewhere.
 
I have to hand it to Dracovar, he's the only artist who can consistently make me shrink from my monitor in disgust:
View attachment 2198403

I love Looney Tunes. They were the first cartoons I ever watched, and from the looks of things, they'll be the last cartoons I'll ever watch! I often say that my first crush was Wile E. Coyote, because he was a the first character who made me feel like I wanted to be close to him without knowing why. Be close to him, befriend him, comfort him, fawn over him, and, strangely enough for the time, smell him. Pretty odd thing to fantasize about at that age, but it was what it was. He was only the first, though, because that fascination extended to others, primarily Daffy Duck and Sylvester! Was it because those three were always on the receiving end of beats, snaps, bangs, and slams? I don't really question it. Because all that matters is that I loved them then, and I love them now. The only difference is now I wanna fawn over them AND their cocks.

Daffy is just so petty, impulsive, selfish, greedy, and arrogant, and I LOVE it. He is the id we all wish we could indulge in whether life demands joy, anger, or any other form of gratification. Just like how we all long to coddle those base impulses he represents, I long to coddle Daffy exactly the same way! Probably to an unhealthy degree. I would indulge and reward EVERY-SINGLE-ONE of his bad behaviors every second of the day. Fuel his already-overblown ego, reward his rampant avarice, encourage his emotional compulsions, and make him believe he is in the right on every single occasion-- ESPECIALLY when he knows it's wrong. I just find those aspects of that deranged duck as sexy as his speech impediment! You heard me. I said Daffy's speech impediment is sexy as FUCK. Maybe I'm just attracted to the kind of bad boy who's always in it for himself. I mean, come on, he's a cartoon character that's an exaggeration of unrestrained behavior! By pushing him over the edge, you're only making Daffy even DAFFIER! And if fulfilling his delusions of grandeur are what get Daffy's cock hard and wet, I will make him feel like the king of the world when he gets his way and let him take his anger out on me when he doesn't! Watch out, Sylvester; if he's taken an interest in you, you'll either be thick as thieves or have a worthy rival!

But Sylvester. Sweet, sweet Sylvester. Like Daffy, he's always trying to get ahead, but unlike Daffy, he rarely ever makes it past square one. He's a filthy, desperate, dumpster-dwelling alley cat motivated wholly by his nature. Though his actions may appear needlessly cruel, at heart, all he really wants is a full belly and a little peace and quiet. He only asks for the bare minimum from life, and yet he is STILL constantly denied. And what are the bare minimum things that we are put on this planet to do? To eat, sleep, and fuck. If he were my cat, I would ensure Sylvester's cup runneth over for all three. Even though he probably stinks to high Hell of old tuna cans, I'd bathe him from head to paw in the only manner befitting for a cat, if you catch my drift! From his cruddy muzzle, to his matted belly fur, to his grungy cock, to his dingy balls, to his greasy tailhole, all the way to his grimy paws. That down-on-his-luck kitty deserves to feel like a king. He fends for himself pretty well, but I don't think he'd say no! Unfortunately for him, just like when he's looking for shelter or a particularly annoying canary, it appears Sylvester's in over his head in this particular situation. Buddy, if you're looking for a good time, it's definitely cheap and easy to find one with Daffy and Wile E. Coyote, but you know what they say about there being no such thing as a free lunch! I hear those two are, after all, quite daffy and wily...

And Wile. Oh, Wile. As the years have gone by, my fondness for you has only grown. He's another fella who just can't catch a break, though his failings are more self-inflicted rather than from adversity. He is like a combination of the previous two, a driven egotist who often overestimates his capability, and yet still deserving of sympathy. Sure, he may be emaciated and disheveled from endlessly pursuing the one thing he can't have, but that's what I call "Looking for love in all the wrong places." If Wile's going to spend his days chasing down one bird, it should be me! Not that he'd have to do MUCH chasing, but if it gets him salivating and yearning, I'm willing to do it. I can play hard to get! But unlike that tease of a Roadrunner, his efforts WILL be rewarded! And when they are, I want him to give me everything he has-- and I mean E V E R Y T H I N G. Force his prize to spend hours just tending to his dirty coyote hole, and I'm NOT talking about his den. Revel in his accolade by marking his trophy as his territory with repeated coats of his pungent, golden piss. Deliver his just desserts by forcing his helpless quarry to clean his sweaty, jam-caked toes that have been sullied by the chase. Force his prey to prepare for the inevitable by slavering all over every stinking inch of his skanky, vile cock, including his fur-clumped, sweat-soured, flea-ridden pubes and ballsack. And best of all, there is no fear of Wile ever giving up the chase, because if there is any word to describe that wretched specimen, it is "insatiable". Sylvester, sitting where you are right now, if you think you've been roughed up in the past, you ain't seen NOTHIN' yet.

And I guess that's why I've come to see you, doctor. Parents won't let me back in their will until I've at least talked to you. I know determining if people are "crazy" is a pretty gross exaggeration of what you actually do, but can you sign this paper saying I'm not? I can pay you in oysters.
?
Why is it so damn on model‽‽
 
I have to hand it to Dracovar, he's the only artist who can consistently make me shrink from my monitor in disgust:
View attachment 2198403

I love Looney Tunes. They were the first cartoons I ever watched, and from the looks of things, they'll be the last cartoons I'll ever watch! I often say that my first crush was Wile E. Coyote, because he was a the first character who made me feel like I wanted to be close to him without knowing why. Be close to him, befriend him, comfort him, fawn over him, and, strangely enough for the time, smell him. Pretty odd thing to fantasize about at that age, but it was what it was. He was only the first, though, because that fascination extended to others, primarily Daffy Duck and Sylvester! Was it because those three were always on the receiving end of beats, snaps, bangs, and slams? I don't really question it. Because all that matters is that I loved them then, and I love them now. The only difference is now I wanna fawn over them AND their cocks.

Daffy is just so petty, impulsive, selfish, greedy, and arrogant, and I LOVE it. He is the id we all wish we could indulge in whether life demands joy, anger, or any other form of gratification. Just like how we all long to coddle those base impulses he represents, I long to coddle Daffy exactly the same way! Probably to an unhealthy degree. I would indulge and reward EVERY-SINGLE-ONE of his bad behaviors every second of the day. Fuel his already-overblown ego, reward his rampant avarice, encourage his emotional compulsions, and make him believe he is in the right on every single occasion-- ESPECIALLY when he knows it's wrong. I just find those aspects of that deranged duck as sexy as his speech impediment! You heard me. I said Daffy's speech impediment is sexy as FUCK. Maybe I'm just attracted to the kind of bad boy who's always in it for himself. I mean, come on, he's a cartoon character that's an exaggeration of unrestrained behavior! By pushing him over the edge, you're only making Daffy even DAFFIER! And if fulfilling his delusions of grandeur are what get Daffy's cock hard and wet, I will make him feel like the king of the world when he gets his way and let him take his anger out on me when he doesn't! Watch out, Sylvester; if he's taken an interest in you, you'll either be thick as thieves or have a worthy rival!

But Sylvester. Sweet, sweet Sylvester. Like Daffy, he's always trying to get ahead, but unlike Daffy, he rarely ever makes it past square one. He's a filthy, desperate, dumpster-dwelling alley cat motivated wholly by his nature. Though his actions may appear needlessly cruel, at heart, all he really wants is a full belly and a little peace and quiet. He only asks for the bare minimum from life, and yet he is STILL constantly denied. And what are the bare minimum things that we are put on this planet to do? To eat, sleep, and fuck. If he were my cat, I would ensure Sylvester's cup runneth over for all three. Even though he probably stinks to high Hell of old tuna cans, I'd bathe him from head to paw in the only manner befitting for a cat, if you catch my drift! From his cruddy muzzle, to his matted belly fur, to his grungy cock, to his dingy balls, to his greasy tailhole, all the way to his grimy paws. That down-on-his-luck kitty deserves to feel like a king. He fends for himself pretty well, but I don't think he'd say no! Unfortunately for him, just like when he's looking for shelter or a particularly annoying canary, it appears Sylvester's in over his head in this particular situation. Buddy, if you're looking for a good time, it's definitely cheap and easy to find one with Daffy and Wile E. Coyote, but you know what they say about there being no such thing as a free lunch! I hear those two are, after all, quite daffy and wily...

And Wile. Oh, Wile. As the years have gone by, my fondness for you has only grown. He's another fella who just can't catch a break, though his failings are more self-inflicted rather than from adversity. He is like a combination of the previous two, a driven egotist who often overestimates his capability, and yet still deserving of sympathy. Sure, he may be emaciated and disheveled from endlessly pursuing the one thing he can't have, but that's what I call "Looking for love in all the wrong places." If Wile's going to spend his days chasing down one bird, it should be me! Not that he'd have to do MUCH chasing, but if it gets him salivating and yearning, I'm willing to do it. I can play hard to get! But unlike that tease of a Roadrunner, his efforts WILL be rewarded! And when they are, I want him to give me everything he has-- and I mean E V E R Y T H I N G. Force his prize to spend hours just tending to his dirty coyote hole, and I'm NOT talking about his den. Revel in his accolade by marking his trophy as his territory with repeated coats of his pungent, golden piss. Deliver his just desserts by forcing his helpless quarry to clean his sweaty, jam-caked toes that have been sullied by the chase. Force his prey to prepare for the inevitable by slavering all over every stinking inch of his skanky, vile cock, including his fur-clumped, sweat-soured, flea-ridden pubes and ballsack. And best of all, there is no fear of Wile ever giving up the chase, because if there is any word to describe that wretched specimen, it is "insatiable". Sylvester, sitting where you are right now, if you think you've been roughed up in the past, you ain't seen NOTHIN' yet.

And I guess that's why I've come to see you, doctor. Parents won't let me back in their will until I've at least talked to you. I know determining if people are "crazy" is a pretty gross exaggeration of what you actually do, but can you sign this paper saying I'm not? I can pay you in oysters.
I was just about to say that pic is relatively tame, but then i read the wall of text and the last summary.

"Parents won't let me back in their will until I've at least talked to you." :story: :story:
 
Don't know if images made by Kiwis themselves count, but I made this one in GMod to see how much of a realistic image I could create within the limited engine but also making it cursed.
20210530091158_1.jpg
 
Don't know if images made by Kiwis themselves count, but I made this one in GMod to see how much of a realistic image I could create within the limited engine but also making it cursed.
Eh. That's tame. Tbf, what I posted above is pretty tame compared to some of the shit earlier in the thread.
 
Don't know if images made by Kiwis themselves count, but I made this one in GMod to see how much of a realistic image I could create within the limited engine but also making it cursed.
Never did I ever think in my life I'd say that I relate to the expression on old man Hitler's face here. It's what I usually end up having after someone posts something unspeakable in this thread.

Buuuuut it's tame. I'll even say it's more of a shitpost than an FA horror.
 
I genuinely think that the254e will likely become a threat to society if his stuff is left unnoticed, I recall Jeff Weise making similar stuff on Newgrounds before he went on to commit the Red Lake shooting. Like I've seen gore artwork before on Pixiv, but it's not as graphic as his stuff. It wouldn't be shocking to say that he's likely taken inspiration from actual gore videos for his art.
(Ironically enough, this video was uploaded by the infamous Couch cuck on one of his alts)
 
Don't know if images made by Kiwis themselves count, but I made this one in GMod to see how much of a realistic image I could create within the limited engine but also making it cursed.
I'm more concerned as to where you got such a high res model of Loona, especially a nude one
 
I'm more concerned as to where you got such a high res model of Loona, especially a nude one
It was a port of some random SFM model, I’ve gotten back into Gmod recently and have spent most of my time doing mingebag shit. The weird thing about the background of that image is that it’s an actual map that uses a photograph of a real room as it’s textures.

Somewhere out there, someone is sleeping in that room not knowing that a random furry kiwi made an image of Hitler banging Loona using it.
 
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