OGSniper
Sharpshooter for Hire
Well......goodbye good men.......it was good while it lasted.....
Well......goodbye good men.......it was good while it lasted.....
Well....maybe this book needs to be judged by its contents rather than it's cover. I don't really mind what your thoughts of it are in the end. Like it, hate it, don't read it.....sounds good to me.I didn't read it. Too much of a text dump. Unorganized if you will
idkWell....maybe this book needs to be judged by its contents rather than it's cover. I don't really mind what your thoughts of it are in the end. Like it, hate it, don't read it.....sounds good to me.
the craziest single paragraph ive ever read...with a suprising plot twist lolWell bois....we managed to make it back to the land of the living.....but not without causalities........see......this test was something else......a behemoth of grand proportions. It lived up to its name The Widow Maker. So we went in to take this "test", and already we were filled with "positive thoughts" from all the recruiters. Little did they know......I could see in the shadows and make out scars and wounds that they were trying to deter my attention from. The scars of the PiCat run deep on their skin. Every one of them tell a story and all were received within a 2 hour time block. As we finally get into the room, they shackle my foot down to the grainy and dirty concrete floor. The dim light gives a certain feeling you can only see from a movie. As the test is given to me by a recruiter...... they smile and give out a silent "Good luck" and leave the room and closing the squeaky door behind him. Never does he look back. I look at this test. It looks older than papyrus and as dusty and cold as a forgotten mansion. We start hacking away at it (metaphorically). From figuring out the hypotenuse of an oblong square to answering questions using the the phenotypical formula of quadratics for addition equations....we reach the end of the test with our wits in a coma. The shackle automatically lets go of me, and I leave the room hastily to go use the bathroom (because I had forgotten to go before). We walk through liminal spaces and snowing deserts to get back to our recruiter and my sanity. We find the recruiter sitting behind a solid oak desk with my test already graded.....Alas......the results were devastating......The Widow Maker had claimed another soul to their compendium. Or.....so I thought.....It turns out......that I had received an astounding score by far. I needed to get an average of a 95 in a certain section which is compromised of many different subjects to get a desired job.....turns out I had misjudged something...... something important.....something soul sucking.....something vile..... something......something so large and well guarded that only a genius would begin to comprehend and cherish.......the test isn't graded out of a 0-100. It is graded by a secret method involving Tiberian Monk sleep schedules and polar eclipses. Yes....hope seemed nigh. Redemption guaranteed. Salvation definitive.....but it seemed so.......but if fact......it was. I had gotten a score of a 135 in this certain field. I actually didnt get a score lower than a 120 on any of the categories. This actually means that I have every job open to me..........but something was amiss. It turned out that they couldn't count that attempt because of someone's error at something while submitting my paper work online. Soooo.....I have to come back Sunday....to take it again.