confession
Dearest player, festival-goer, fellow criminal,
I hope my tearstains don't wet the pages. The clown formerly parading around in my head has, like a puff of smoke, let himself out the back door.
It would have been a beautiful, bloody rampage.
I weep. I weep, I weep, I weep.
Burningly yours,
theConspiracy
PS: how do you know my tears are real?
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V<^>>>V<^<<VV>^<^>^^<V>V>>^<V<^^
is there even a game here?
A hush sweeps across the carnival as the harlot from Hell steps out of the shadows for one last puff... and vanishes into the black purple night, a trail of smoke, smoggy blue angels fleeing and dancing like windswept ash.
i literally cant play
The clown sends regards and regrets.