[12 / 5 / ?]
Here's a story since I'm bored.
The story of Anon, the contraband dealer.
>Be me
>Highschool, betafag. The usual
>One of those kids who get pushed around to do other's homework
>Brilliant idea pops up
>I could sell homework
>I'm in a bottom tier class, lazy jocks and dumbasses all around
>Not so bad if you get to know em
>Their stupidity is going to be my advantage
>Begin selling premade homeworks and printed cheat sheets
>In dollars, an average of 5 dollars per product
>Word spread quick, but no one snitched
>OhthankGod.jpeg
>I have the entire bottom tier classes eating out of the palm of my hands
>Start being more aggressive, higher costs, limited offers
>Also better product like pre answered test sheets and rigged pens with small notes inside.
>Fast forward a year
>Gangs form outta nowhere
>All the gang leaders are my clients for dirty business
>I begin selling knives and blunt weapons and even Molotov cocktails
>Great income, about 1200 a week
>Even more when I spread false information about the gangs having beef
>Call it as my marketing plan
>Gang fights happen far from school so if I was to spectate, I would have to be far away
>Quit my business for a year too cool the heating war machines I have created
>Fast forward a year
>My marketing plan reached new heights
>Now, I have scheduled two bigass gangs for a fight
>The most retarded bunch of people I have seen
>Oh well, money is money
>2:00 AM
>An old abandoned park
>Bunch of stoners lying about
>They didn't know that a war I created is about to take place
>Hide in tree, prepare to watch fireworks
>Made a makeshift camo suit
>Looks like shit but in the cover of the night, I look pretty undetectable
>Here they come
>Giant fuckfest, people slamming against one another, stabbing, beating, it's glorious
>It's like watching inmates fight
>Cops come
>Hid in the tree
>They never knew
>Next day, anxious as fuck to go to school
>Turns out, I'm clean
>They were dumb enough not to tell
Aight that's enough /b/
The story of Anon, the contraband dealer.
>Be me
>Highschool, betafag. The usual
>One of those kids who get pushed around to do other's homework
>Brilliant idea pops up
>I could sell homework
>I'm in a bottom tier class, lazy jocks and dumbasses all around
>Not so bad if you get to know em
>Their stupidity is going to be my advantage
>Begin selling premade homeworks and printed cheat sheets
>In dollars, an average of 5 dollars per product
>Word spread quick, but no one snitched
>OhthankGod.jpeg
>I have the entire bottom tier classes eating out of the palm of my hands
>Start being more aggressive, higher costs, limited offers
>Also better product like pre answered test sheets and rigged pens with small notes inside.
>Fast forward a year
>Gangs form outta nowhere
>All the gang leaders are my clients for dirty business
>I begin selling knives and blunt weapons and even Molotov cocktails
>Great income, about 1200 a week
>Even more when I spread false information about the gangs having beef
>Call it as my marketing plan
>Gang fights happen far from school so if I was to spectate, I would have to be far away
>Quit my business for a year too cool the heating war machines I have created
>Fast forward a year
>My marketing plan reached new heights
>Now, I have scheduled two bigass gangs for a fight
>The most retarded bunch of people I have seen
>Oh well, money is money
>2:00 AM
>An old abandoned park
>Bunch of stoners lying about
>They didn't know that a war I created is about to take place
>Hide in tree, prepare to watch fireworks
>Made a makeshift camo suit
>Looks like shit but in the cover of the night, I look pretty undetectable
>Here they come
>Giant fuckfest, people slamming against one another, stabbing, beating, it's glorious
>It's like watching inmates fight
>Cops come
>Hid in the tree
>They never knew
>Next day, anxious as fuck to go to school
>Turns out, I'm clean
>They were dumb enough not to tell
Aight that's enough /b/
