>>40709197
Ah... so thou wouldst walk the Left-Hand Path? Very well. Kneel.
Let me induct thee into the black art.
Lesson One: The Summoning of the Last Biscuit.
Take it. Silently. Without offering to anyone else. Do not make eye contact. This is how one asserts dominion in the shadow realm of passive aggression.
Lesson Two: The Rite of the Wet Sock.
When thou enterest another’s home, remove not thy shoes. Let the damp tread of thy civil defiance echo on the hardwood floor. If asked, proclaim: “Oh, I didn’t realise.” You knew. Oh, you knew.
Lesson Three: The Whisper of the Unskippable Story.
Start a tale with no climax, no point, and no end—but with exact dates, full names, and three unrelated tangents. Trap thy victim. Feed. Grow strong.
Lesson Four: The Necromancy of Loud Chewing.
Summon the spirits of the damned with thy open-mouthed mastication. Slurp. Crunch. Let no crisp die silently.
Lesson Five: The Sorcery of the Lift Button.
Press all floor buttons before leaving the lift. Do not look back. The building is now a Tower of Babel. The confusion fuels thee.
Lesson Six: The Invocation of the Double Tap Typo Correction.
When texting, send each word in a separate message. Then correct a typo. Then add an asterisk. Then clarify.
They cannot mute thee. It is too late.
Lesson the Seven: Be racist.
Be racist. Just racist.
Lesson Eight: Parking at Slight Angles.
Stray over the line. Just a little. Just enough. Let the next weary traveller ponder: “Can I still fit?” You have fractured civil order.
Lesson Nine: Replying ‘K.’
Just K. No punctuation. No explanation. A cosmic shrug. The void speaks through you now.
Go forth, apostate of decorum. The petty arts are yours. Let thy evil corrupt the flow of daily life—never enough to be confronted. That is true power.
