Congratulations, lucky How's Your Pangolin visitor: you won! Don't ask silly questions about what you've won, or how we got your personal contact info. Because you won! All you have to do is click below to claim what is undoubtedly a fantastic prize (and most certainly not a rusting '57 Chevy with a trunk full of bees and a mummified hooker in the passenger's seat).
So click "Next"! Go ahead, don't be bashful, you lucky bastard. I must ask though that whatever you do, please don't click the little question mark in the top-right corner and oh shit you've already clicked it, haven't you. God damn it. Do you know what you've done?! Because I dont! Nobody has ever clicked that button before.
Quite frankly we don't even know how it got there. I heard rumors that one of our trained IT monkeys clicked it and just... disappeared. All that was found later was a pile of hastily-excreted fecal matter and a banana next to a computer terminal monitor. They think he shat himself in fear and dropped his lunch, but it's all a bunch of hearsay, and the IT crew doesn't get out much so they like to embellish things a bit. Anybody could have taken a mid-work poop and forgotten the "no snacks" rule in the server room.
Still, that was just a rumor. You were just dumb enough to click that button, weren't you. Now you're turning purple and... what? Purple? Now you're orange... Oh sweet Mohammed's nutsack, the walls are spinning and turning all the colors of the rainbow in rapid succession. I'm gonna... gonna be sick... and *huuurrrgghhhhh!* ...guh... ugh... oh man, this isn't right.
Hey you, get away from me you dinosaur head! Yes, you, you button-clicker! Why do you have the head of a pterodactyl? Why are my hands made of cheese all of a sudden?! Why ha- *gmmphh!* *blechhhh!* *hack!* All the air in the room just turned into hair for half a second and back again. Oh my... great-grandma Gertrude? Is that you? But you've been dead for decades! Why are you dry-humping a combine harvester?
My head... feels like a shallow puddle of chicken soup and the oft-sung anthem of reticulated indigent mastodons in a Dirac sea. Bubble teapot winked husky flippant birds with a discombobulated hangover steamer trunk surfboard jalopy. This is... this is the end, isn't it? The end and beginning of all things... You bastard. You've sent us into the heart of universe itself! The 5th dimension! I can see... everything! I can't see anything! Aaaaaaahhhh!!!- *spoink* . . . .
So click "Next"! Go ahead, don't be bashful, you lucky bastard. I must ask though that whatever you do, please don't click the little question mark in the top-right corner and oh shit you've already clicked it, haven't you. God damn it. Do you know what you've done?! Because I dont! Nobody has ever clicked that button before.
Quite frankly we don't even know how it got there. I heard rumors that one of our trained IT monkeys clicked it and just... disappeared. All that was found later was a pile of hastily-excreted fecal matter and a banana next to a computer terminal monitor. They think he shat himself in fear and dropped his lunch, but it's all a bunch of hearsay, and the IT crew doesn't get out much so they like to embellish things a bit. Anybody could have taken a mid-work poop and forgotten the "no snacks" rule in the server room.
The last company photo taken of Jimbo, our mainframe technician.
Still, that was just a rumor. You were just dumb enough to click that button, weren't you. Now you're turning purple and... what? Purple? Now you're orange... Oh sweet Mohammed's nutsack, the walls are spinning and turning all the colors of the rainbow in rapid succession. I'm gonna... gonna be sick... and *huuurrrgghhhhh!* ...guh... ugh... oh man, this isn't right.
Hey you, get away from me you dinosaur head! Yes, you, you button-clicker! Why do you have the head of a pterodactyl? Why are my hands made of cheese all of a sudden?! Why ha- *gmmphh!* *blechhhh!* *hack!* All the air in the room just turned into hair for half a second and back again. Oh my... great-grandma Gertrude? Is that you? But you've been dead for decades! Why are you dry-humping a combine harvester?
My head... feels like a shallow puddle of chicken soup and the oft-sung anthem of reticulated indigent mastodons in a Dirac sea. Bubble teapot winked husky flippant birds with a discombobulated hangover steamer trunk surfboard jalopy. This is... this is the end, isn't it? The end and beginning of all things... You bastard. You've sent us into the heart of universe itself! The 5th dimension! I can see... everything! I can't see anything! Aaaaaaahhhh!!!- *spoink* . . . .
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your experience on clicking the button was much more awesome than mine. All i got was a picture of a button...again. If God is infinity, then i think you just posted him on here.
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