1:52 AM…. I bolt upright, panting. There’s sweat running down my greasy face, collecting in puddles on my cum saturated mattress. I roll out of my sticky bed and stare longingly at my computer. My mind is conflicted, confused. I want…. i want…. I WANT TO PLAY UKRAINIAN BALL IN SEARCH OF GAS!

I waddle over to my desktop in adult diaper, feeling the squelch of fecal matter between my hairy legs. I gently caress the power button, before slamming it full force. The computer screams to life. I quickly launch steam, and then Ukrainian ball in search of gas. My computer whirs and hisses as it attempts render the beautiful, immense open world of Ukrainian ball in search of gas. My breath is taken away from me and my eyes gleam as i enter the world. Oh.. it’s so beautiful. I always forget how smooth the controls are, how effortlessly the ball glides across the sun swathed landscape, the rise and fall of the gentle hills, the soft blue of the sky… ah… is this paradise? If i didn’t know any better, i’d think i was in the garden of eden.

6:46 PM: After hours searching for gas in Ukrainian ball in search of Gas, (i believe i amassed a mere 67 cans of gas; no where near enough to keep a cute fuwwy like me fuwl uwu) i began to think about the lore. As i took the 7th shit in my diaper of the day, i wondered. What am i? I am not just a ball. I am a ball in search of gas. I have a purpose. The lore behind this game… it’s like a hook, a hook which latched onto me and dragged me into its immense universe. After countless hours in game, i constructed a theory. You are a civilian; taken brutally by the police and military to become a new supersoldier; a relentless ball, searching for gas, rolling over anything in your path. To many normies, this game seems meaningless. But to us pro gamers, it presents a bold statement about the world we live in and the rampant corruption slowly consuming our world. It has a deep, profound, heartbreaking commentary on police brutality and the corruption of the military. I must consider this further; while i do so, let me collect the sweet nectar of the gods; gas.

The next week, 9:23 PM. It’s been days. I haven’t slept. I haven’t got up. The only thing i’ve eaten is the slimy hairy clumps on my gaming chair. The only thing i’ve drunk is my cummy shit bottle. I have amassed legion of gas; The lifeblood of this world. I’m rolling, as happy can be, but i hear a knock on my door. I never get visitors (i wonder why?), so i must answer this. I peel my sticky skin off the fuzzy leather of my gaming chair. The fecal matter in my diaper squelches as i straighten up. I glance in the mirror. I see a hunched figure with bloodshot eyes staring back at me. Ah… the joys of searching for gas. I open the door, and a waft of putrid air hits the mailman in the face. His face contorts in disgust. He drops his bag and runs. I take the bag and begin to search through it. I take the first letter i see and tear into it using my ragged teeth. What’s this? ah, a love letter. I wonder what it must be like. I’m 35, and haven’t even smelt love yet. Wait…. is this letter from a girl? Wow! I’ve only heard tales.. I raise the letter to my hairy nose and inhale…. i can smell the perfume and female juice… delicious. Simply delightful. I throw the letter into the corner of my room, along with all the empty Mountain Dew cans. I continue searching. Wait… is that my name? Ah it is, great! I open the letter and burst into tears. It’s…. It’s a gas bill…. I feel a contortion of joy in my chest. My work has paid off! My search for gas has bought me gas in real life! I keel over, and faceplant into my crispy sock pile, as the joyous pain in my obese body grows. I’m happy…. I…. I…..