>>24493
Little Shlomo slowly tries to make his way to his computer. His extreme physical weight makes it much harder for him to navigate properly across the room's floor, littered with empty Mt. Dew bottles and all kinds of various dragon dildos. He seats in his dirty and run-down chair, which groans at the shock of his 200, extremely heavy pounds bearing down on it, and presses the start button on his outdated computer. As his computer boots up with a humming sound, Shlomo picks up a dossier from the trash-littered floor and examines it. It's his trusty old manual made by the JIDF, containing various instructions for debate with anti-Zionists in online forums. He proceeds to open the dossier with his fat, and very smelly hands. One of Shlomo's fat arms accidently knocks down one of his countless empty Vaseline tubes, and underneath exposes an old picture which he had long forgotten. Shlomo was utterly surprised to see it was still there. "Oh Miranda, you dirty Gentile shitze, why wouldn't you love me?" Shlomo whimpers under his heavy breath. Suddenly, all of his repressed and painful memories back from high school return to Shlomo. Being rejected by his love, her filthy goyim friends laughing at him, him starting to cry and running off like so many times before. To this day he remains a bitter and hate-filled virgin. He always blamed the Gentiles for his own failures. "I don't need this stupid shitze anyway, or any inferior white Gentile cattle girl for that matter," Shlomo bitterly mumbles, filled with his own impotent anger, and proceeds to throw the picture of Miranda into the trash, which is already filled to the brim with used Kleenex tissue papers. Finally logging into his computer, Shlomo is greeted by his home wallpaper, consisting of a huge black cock. After discovering the Internet, he soon found an outlet for his repressed sexuality, by fapping to cuckold porn. He wanted to approach Tyrone about his feelings, just so he could lose his virginity before he turned 25. Still, Shlomo had not found the courage to talk to Tyrone, or anyone except for his mother after he finished high school, for that matter. "I always just wanted to suck your black dick, Tyrone," he sighed. Shlomo opens up his outdated Internet Explorer, and searches on Bing for 4chan's "Politically Incorrect" sub-board. Suddenly, he remembers his mother's words. She always told him to get a job in real estate, or become a lawyer like his father, Moshe Davidsteingolemwitz. "Please get a real job, Shlomo. I'm begging you," she would say. But she just doesn't understand. She doesn't understand how utterly important it is to protect the chosen nation of Israel from these scumbag Stormfags and Arab-Palestinians on the Internet, whose ultimate goal it is to wipe him off the map. Shlomo now begins to type on his keyboard. "Fucking racist Stormfags, listen up here..." After a short time of posting on 8chan, Shlomo is sweaty and frustrated yet again, like so often before. "Fucking goyim scum!" he aggressively yells at his computer monitor. Shlomo is so upset that he actually knocks his Applejack pony figure off his desk. Little Shlomo sniffs his tears away and forces himself to calm down for a little while. "I'm sorry, Applejack," he says. Shlomo then turns to his wall, which he has covered in JIDF, MLP and cuckold posters. In the midst of this most unholy mess is a framed picture with the arched words "Remember the 66 billion." Now, Shlomo euphorically salutes his wall, and with a burning passion for Israel in his heart, sitting in his mom's basement, he types endlessly. "Oh, you goshdarn goyim Stormfags..."