Quoted By:
"EXCUSE ME, DO YOU HAVE BATTLETOADS"
The channer chuckles, dribbling spittle onto his dimly lit, amorphous form, his eyes firmly locked onto the monitor, his armpit stains growing as he perspires from the relative exercise of even a low chuckle.
"POOL'S CLOSED"
In the channer's abode, a deep, gurgling chuckle has now risen into fully fledged laughter. He spits out his half-chewed doritos onto his monitor, covering yet another corner in the disgusting orange paste - not the first to be on there. His mother would be tasked to clean that up later.
"GIMMIE GIMMIE CHICKEN TENDIES"
The channer's monitor is effectively covered by the wall of spittle that is flung from his mouth as he starts laughing out loud. As his howler monkey screech is loosed, he knocks over his mountain dew(Call of Duty double xp edition, no less) onto his carpet, and watches it slowly drain away. He knows that his rolls will prevent him from bending far enough to pick it up, but desperately tries anyways.
"DUBS, DUBS"
The channer keels over in his chair and it creaks in protest, barely able to keep aloft his neutron star mass. His heart is fluttering sporadically, his tiny lungs wheezing with effort in order to sustain his laughter. His shaking hand reaches for his bag of doritos, but his sausage fingers fumble - it falls into the puddle that sprang from the open top of the mountain dew. He panics.
"SNEED LOL"
At this point, with an exponentially declining supply of oxygen and an increased work load, his MSG addled heart, desperately trying to pump blood through his clogged arteries, practically explodes from the strain. Blood flies out in gallons from the channer's mouth, covering his monitor and mixing with the spittle, doritos, and mountain dew stains. His mother would only discover his corpse in their basement suite four days later.
