Kuritho

Welcome to Hell! You may be wondering the following things: "There's an afterlife, and I'm in Hell?" "WHAT THE FUCK I'M CHRISTIAN!" "Huh. It's an upgrade from Florida." You're actually in Heaven. We needed to rebrand after somebody (Hallow's Eve, anybody?) decided to keep it Halloween for a bit too long (about 17 million years, give or take) and the people here were so accustomed that we decided to become Hell. We still got the all the stuff as "old boring Heaven", except Halloween themed. By the way, there is no Hell. That'd be a Class-A asshole move. Archangel Versai, at your service. Within reason.

I'm honored, really.

As stated by Lethys, we can confirm that it is confirmed by the confirmation of NQ, whom is confirmed to be an official confirmer.

Then everybody would block me.

We thought he committed suicide.

Not just a Nintendo guy. The cool guy.

Pray for Etika, even if you're atheist.

Some things are best left in the "Abyss of being Forgotten." We're all about Raptor Unity because "squad" is too exclusive.

Are you guys trading good-boy points again? I swear to god, good-boy points can only be given out, transferred, and traded in with me. That's called capitalism. Too bad you guys don't find out the God-Good-Boi (ran by me, of course) kiosk takes a 100% deduction. So y'all ain't getting your chicken tendies. -Hugs and Kisses, Your Mother Figure.

I'm surprised you'll still here. You interviewed Terran Union? Love trumps all. BOO is love. BOO trumps all.

So I was thinking "What is Project Tortuga?" Obviously, a safehaven for criminals. Let me introduce everyone to something called guerrilla marketing and associative marketing. A hidden criminal empire that the only data you can pry is a few numbers. Make everything public and Tortuga loses the appeal. What you do is let a few reap the benefits, and let the rest follow in. This is guerrilla marketing- you put in little effort to advertise, and word gets out on street that you sell the good shit. Now, associative marketing. This isn't a widely-accepted term because there are synonymous ways to address this. Basically, you associate a main idea upon your brand. Let's think of McDonalds. You think of an arched yellow 'M', you think McDonalds. Sassy twitter? Wendys. Fast food with Christian values? Chick-fil-a (which banks on hyper-religious people). Let's put those together. For minimal effort and plenty of profit, you have an iconic symbol and nothing more. Nothing. At. All. You still have the org running, but the public face of it is blank. People underestimate. Those same people don't benefit. Together isn't better. Better is together.

OH BOY DO I HAVE A STORY! Advanced Shitpost Alert:

Here's a shitlist: "And my Axxon!" "Can you fix my problem for being lonely?" "Axxon Body Spray." "Have you tried turning it Axxoff and then Axxon again?" "Our solution is your problem!" -When you inevitably piss off somebody. If you need to hire me, I charged 10$ per joke.

Please, do not necropost me.

Heresy!

"Grandson, you know how the world runs?" James said in a gruff voice, taking a huff a cigar made from local baskaweed. A child, no older than 4, looks up at his grandfather, and nods no. "The world runs on 3 things: oil, money, and drugs. Now, we built our empire when we first landed upon this great planet, and we took this planet's graceful resources to help humanity. Them police forces are trying to shut us down for illegal minin', I just make some threats!" James spoke and chuckled at that last remark, and the child listened intently while his neural processor tries and process that information. The processor found the joke and rated the humor as "below sub-par." "But papa, where's my coa-cwoa sippy cup?" The child says, as he looks into his rather empty cup that he drank in 3 gulps. James sighs and mutters something about "those damn millennials."

My knowledge of "the OwOkin."

WHADDUP! NOW, YOU MAY BE WONDERING IF WE SHOULD ADD NUKES. WE SHOULD, YEAH. I'D LOVE TO NUKE MAH FOOD BECAUSE I'M TOO DUMB TO COOK IT MYSELF YEETERS OUT! #BroSquad #Fortnight

"And thus, another legion of them is borne."

Oh yes! God-Emperor-chan! So many hyphens!

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. You know what you're here for today, right? This company is two generations over... ten thousand years?" The audience softly chuckles, but their eyes are still focused on her, the woman with the spotlight. A living legacy. "Today, I present to you... Over ten thousand years of work into a single product to make sure, well frankly, you get your shit together." The audience laughs a bit harder, some of them trying to focus on the tiny little clearish box, while the smarter look at the huge holo-projector behind Lisa Brennan-Jobs. "Now with full VR-dive, so you get to experience even more worlds away from yours." Lisa says, but the audience doesn't laugh at it. She wonders if she should explain it, but she decides not to. "The iPhone XV, starting at just 599 quanta. No headphone jacks, because your mind is the jack." She says, as she throws the phone on the floor, yet it doesn't shatter. Just a soft thud. Some workers bring over a vat of acid, and she picks the phone up and drops it in. A few drops go airborne and sizzle on the floor. Afterwards, she heats the phone to several hundred degrees centigrade. She puts on some gloves because it is still acid. The phone is invincible, not her. She of course orders a pizza from some historical site (an area to remember somebody called Papa Johns, a cultural beacon. The pizza has been adjusted for authenticity). "100% protection, 100% of the time. You break it, we buy it for you." She says, as smoke pours into the stage. Disappearing onto the stage, the crowd stands and applauds. Verdict: yes. We want smokes and flares. I want to be able to rock in, and show my damn stuff.