Hey everyone. I'm a very long-time lurker that's decided to give a go at posting fiction. I've been here since the early 2000's in other guises, but I wanted a fresh start...fresh start. Here I go. I hope you enjoy this story; please let me know if you do!
Incidentally, I was inspired by a piece of art I found in my collection recently. I genuinely hope the original artist does not mind me dreaming up a story to match to his piece. I will happily take this down should that prove to be the case.
A Lesson in Karma
Alicia had had enough of her sister. Fortunately for her, the whole town had.
They'd both been born to the same hard-working, small-town parents. They'd both enjoyed an upbringing where neither of them really ever wanted for anything. Somehow, though, they'd turned out complete opposites. While Alicia was an honest, respectable woman who always worked for what she had, Cynthia was a cheating, lying, stealing, amoral whore. Alicia earned her money, put hard work and love into her relationships, and always did what was right by others. Cynthia stole men away from other women, lied and put on Oscar-worthy acts to turn them against their family, friends, and proper spouses, and always came out on top.
It would end today. Alicia had seen to that.
One of the benefits of living in a small town was that everybody knew eachother. Everybody knew the Winston sisters; the good, noble Alicia and the scheming, devious Cynthia. The former was muched loved by the older townsfolk, who knew her heart to be pure and her motives even moreso. And everybody, young and old, knew Cynthia to be a dirty, lying tramp who stole men, broke hearts, and did whatever it took to get ahead. For nearly a decade they'd endured it; now, with their help, Alicia would put an end to it once and for all.
The idea had come to her just a week back, when she and her sister had gotten into a big fight. Alicia had lost yet another decent, good-looking man to her sister's tireless and self-serving advances. He'd been seduced by her, drawn away into an adulterous affair, and then left for broke. Many men before had met the same fate, yet it seemed the small town's populace of men were all doomed never to learn. When she'd confronted Cynthia, Alicia had been fed the same old routine. The devilish girl had told her that she was better off without a dishonest, cheating man, had told her that it was all a favour. Alicia, of course, had screamed back what a load of bullshit that was. The two came to scraps, as usual; Alicia lost and wound up at her sister's mercy, as usual.
The worst part was, each of the two sisters knew eachother inside and out. They each knew the other's strengths, and they knew the other's weaknesses. One secret had remained guarded closely between them; they were both desperately and impossibly ticklish. Even though she'd been wronged, Alicia was forced to endure an unbearable, mind-shattering foot tickling at her sister's cruel nails. Cynthia had mocked her about how this was the price she paid for spurning her good will, had teased her endlessly about how it was her fate to always lose, all the while tracing maddening, unbearable trails of ticklish agony up and down her soles. When it was over, as it had been so many times in the past, the honest and good girl was left sobbing in defeat while the scoundrelous one walked away whistling dixie.
Slapping another sticker on the box, Alicia let an uncharacteristically cruel grin take her lips. Never again would Cynthia win. Never again would that bitch gloat and lord over her.
No, this time, she would lose. Cynthia was about to learn a hard, painful lesson in karma.
Though the day began just like so many before, it would end like no other. One sister would triumph forever, and the other would be trapped in a hell of regret, repenting for sins she could never repent for the rest of her days. Alicia looked down at the box lovingly, stared with pride and admiration at the tool of her sister's undoing. It was an old family relic, a massive travel chest with sturdy wooden walls and strong bronze locks. With some help from a local woodsmith, a set of five padded holes had been crafted in the front. It still looked like a chest, sure enough, but it's function had been altered. For Cynthia, it would be an inescapable prison. One by one, almost lovingly, Alicia read off the stickers that had been irremovably glued all over the sinister "chest."
- I'm a bitch!
- I'm an asshole!
- Ignore my moaning.
- I deserve to be in here.
- Insult me!
- I'm nasty!
- I like to be tickled.
- Anyway, my sister was merciful.
It had taken months, but finally it was done. The tool of her sister's undoing was complete, and so were the circumstances needed to make it work. The police, town hall, everybody agreed that this was nothing more than a case of public justice. Cynthia would be locked in the chest, completely naked, gagged and helpless. The chest - devil sister and all - would be left on a busy corner of the town. Everyone who passed would tickle her trapped, helpless feet, all day long. And Cynthia - the Queen of Bitches, so used to being in control, would scream and thrash and struggle helplessly while her bare, trapped soles were tickled mercilessly, unendingly.
Best of all, this was no short, one-time lesson. When the day was over, the sherif would come and find her all locked up. Rather than offering her help, that whore would be arrested for public indency. In their little town, that was at least a three year sentence; with town hall against her, she'd easily serve ten. Of course, the sherrif would take her to lockup. She'd scream and wail and fight helplessly against her cuffs, but in the end she'd be tossed in the cell. Crying tears of bitter, agonizing defeat, she'd be locked away in a small, dingy cell. Her charms and her whiles would do her not one bit of good. The dreaded harlot Cynthia would be jailed through her prime, and there wasn't a soul in the world that could save her.
Alicia felt herself shiver with joy at the thought of her sister's face when she realized the extent of her torment. Her punishment wouldn't be as simple as rotting in a jail, either. Every day, bright and early, she'd be locked back into that chest. She'd scream and thrash and struggle, beg and plead and cry, but ultimately, she'd be locked in and left to the mercy of the townsfolk. For the next ten years, that woman who had done so much wrong, stolen and broken so many hearts, ruined so many innocent dreams, would be tickled from dawn to dusk by an unforgiving town.
There was absolutely nothing Cynthia could do to stop it; a true lesson in karma. The thought almost made Alicia hot.
"Siiis? You there? What the fuck did you want?"
The voice woke Alicia from her dreaming. She'd invited Cynthia over for lunch, all in accordance with the plan. Of course the bitch would show up late and be impatient. That was just who she was; it was one of the many reasons she had been condemned to the hell that waited for her in that box.
"I'm coming, Cyn! Just hold on a second!"
Giving the chest one last loving look, Alicia trotted down the attic stairs towards her kitchen. She stepped out with a smile, giving her sister a big hug.
"Woa, Ally...are you alright?" asked Cynthia, mock-concern in her voice.
"I'm fine. Can't a girl be happy to see her big sister?"
Laughing bitterly, Cynthia rolled her eyes. Sitting at the table, she leaned back in her chair and gave Alicia a suspicious look.
"Well, what is it?" the older sister asked, wasting no time.
"I just wanted to have a talk," responded Alicia. She set down a coffee for her sister, than sat and began to sip her own.
There was a moment of silence as the two girls sipped their coffee. Each was in their early twenties; the older 23, the younger 21. The both of them had straight blond hair, doe blue eyes, and soft, baby-doll faces. Alicia had often wondered how her sister had been so skilled at stealing away men when they looked so similar each to the other. She also supposed it wouldn't matter, shortly. After a moment, the bitchy homewrecker spoke again.
"What is there to talk about?" sniped Cynthia.
"A lot, actually," Alicia responded. She paused, taking a sip of her coffee. To her unsurpassed glee, her sister did the same.
"This'd better not be the same shit as last time," warned Cynthia. "You know what happens." The girl paused, giving a cruel smile.
"Unless you wanna end up crying again, like always."
Giving her older sister a deeply sour look, Alicia huffed and finished her coffee. A moment later her sister did the same. Another few moments passed in silence; after a short eternity, Alicia's lips parted in a mocking, cruel smile, and she began to speak.
"No, I don't. You don't understand, Cyn. Today, you lose."
"What are you on about?" Cynthia retorted with a laugh. "You really wanna...try...again...?"
As if she'd had a ton of bricks dropped on her head, Cynthia's whole world began to spin. She shot up from her chair, knocking the now-empty coffee mug away, swaying and stumbling in place. Laughing strongly, bitterly, Alicia stood as well, stepping towards her sister.
"Like I said, Cyn..." the younger sister stated, her smile now grown ear to ear, putting a finger to her drugged older sister's forehead. "You...lose!"
With no effort at all, Alicia knocked the scandalous whore that had marred her whole life - her family's, her village's lives - back into her chair. Though dazed, Cynthia looked back up at her sister with a look of horror.
"Y...you...you wouldn't!" she protested weakly, her limbs growing heavy. "Ally...!"
"Goodnight, Cynthia," Alicia chirped in a mocking, sing-song voice. "I really hope you enjoy these next ten years...!"
---------------------------------------
When she finally woke up, it didn't take long to notice that she'd been locked up. Tightly secured in a crate, her head poked from the middle, her hands each a few inches to the sides of that, and her soft, high-arched size 10 feet each a foot and a half away towards the ends. There were a few muscle-jolting shakes, feeble and useless struggles. Of course, the crate held her tight, and over the next few minutes every last bit of fighting and struggling she did amounted to nothing. The tool of her torture had been made well, and nothing she would ever, could ever do, no matter how insanely, desperately she wanted it, would break her free.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" she shouted into her gag with wild abandon, fingers and toes flexing with agonizing frustration. The sound of laughter filled her ears, and a moment later she heard speaking.
"Well well, if our little sleeping beauty hasn't woken up!" a man's voice stated, met by the cheering laughs of many. "We've been waiting for you."
She renewed her struggling with all of her might, pulling and thrashing and using every last ounce of strength she'd been born with and then some. Tears of maddening impotence formed in her eyes as the absolute, sanity-crushing inescapability of her bondage became utterly clear to her.
"You're a bitch!" one man cried, closing in on the panicked girl.
"You're an asshole!" shouted another.
"We'll ignore your moaning," a third man informed her.
"After all, you deserve to be in there," yet another informed her, placing a fingertip on her sole. She shook her head wildly from side to side, howling in frustrated outrage.
"Fuckin' slut!" cried one, heeding the sticker's advice to insult her.
"You're nasty!" shouted another, this one reading the sticker more or less verbatum.
"You like to be tickled, huh?" asked one, placing a fingertip on her other sole. Again she screamed into her gag at the top of her lungs, tears rolling from both eyes, fighting against all hope to break free from the solid, diabolical chest stocks. She failed.
"Anyways, your sister was merciful," informed the last. Those words drummed home in her ears like a thousand funeral bells.
Her sister was merciful, the sticker said. Meanwhile, greedy, lustful, vengeful fingers began exacting their penance upon her helpless, trapped, agonizingly tender and sensitive souls. She howled in desperate agony at their merest touch. Her whole life, she could never bear being touched on her soles, even the slightest bit. Now, she was helpless. Trapped to bear the unbearable, as long as these men wanted. Again she screamed, cried in outrage, thrashed against her unyeilding bondage. A bondage she knew she would be forced to live with day after day, a bondage that would leave her intollerably sensitive soles at the mercy of these men day after day.
Today, she was learning a lesson neither her mind nor soul could bear. A lesson in karma. As she faded into the indescribably agony of being trapped in a world of torment she would give anything to escape and never could, her sister's last words played through her mind once more.
"Sweet Alicia, you really did try hard, didn't you? It's a shame, I swear! You really put a lot of work into this one. Why, if the town clerk's son wasn't so damn wild for me, you would've probably gotten away with it. Unfortunately for you, though, he is...and even worse, I have a higher tolerance to GHB than you do. I woke up first...and unfortunately for you, I'm not going to be spending the next ten years in that box you worked so hard on. You are."
"Look on the bright side, Ally-hun! You put a lot of work into it, so it'd be a shame for it all to go to waste. I'm going to be skipping town with Eddy, so it wouldn't be any good for me. You, on the other hand, will fit the roll perfectly. I've already snipped up your hair and done your makeup, so they'll never even think it's not me. I'll get you all locked up in this box of yours now - there you are - and you're good to go!"
"I'm sorry, Ally," Cynthia spoke in a mocking, tauntingly sweet voice, the same she had used herself right before passing out. "You lose."
---------------------------------------
Alicia let out one more cry of maddened frustration, one more muffled call to the heavens for justice. There came no response but the dancing of tormenting fingers on her soles.
Cynthia, who had caused her so much suffering in the past, was free to live her life as she wished, with who she wished, free of retribution. Alicia, mean while, would spend every day of the next 10 years suffering day after day of a torment she could not bear, but had no choice but to bear. She would be insulted, spat upon, and tickled mercilessly for ten years. She would be left in display inescapably locked in a chest she had designed herself, with insults she had written herself permanently glued to her. And she - Alicia - would be tortured endlessly, driven mad and mad and beyond, day in and out, for ten years.
A torture she had orchestrated.
A torture she would suffer for her older sister, who roamed free.
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Note: This art was my inspiration, but does not belong to me. I do not know who the highly talented artist responsible for this piece is.
Incidentally, I was inspired by a piece of art I found in my collection recently. I genuinely hope the original artist does not mind me dreaming up a story to match to his piece. I will happily take this down should that prove to be the case.
A Lesson in Karma
Alicia had had enough of her sister. Fortunately for her, the whole town had.
They'd both been born to the same hard-working, small-town parents. They'd both enjoyed an upbringing where neither of them really ever wanted for anything. Somehow, though, they'd turned out complete opposites. While Alicia was an honest, respectable woman who always worked for what she had, Cynthia was a cheating, lying, stealing, amoral whore. Alicia earned her money, put hard work and love into her relationships, and always did what was right by others. Cynthia stole men away from other women, lied and put on Oscar-worthy acts to turn them against their family, friends, and proper spouses, and always came out on top.
It would end today. Alicia had seen to that.
One of the benefits of living in a small town was that everybody knew eachother. Everybody knew the Winston sisters; the good, noble Alicia and the scheming, devious Cynthia. The former was muched loved by the older townsfolk, who knew her heart to be pure and her motives even moreso. And everybody, young and old, knew Cynthia to be a dirty, lying tramp who stole men, broke hearts, and did whatever it took to get ahead. For nearly a decade they'd endured it; now, with their help, Alicia would put an end to it once and for all.
The idea had come to her just a week back, when she and her sister had gotten into a big fight. Alicia had lost yet another decent, good-looking man to her sister's tireless and self-serving advances. He'd been seduced by her, drawn away into an adulterous affair, and then left for broke. Many men before had met the same fate, yet it seemed the small town's populace of men were all doomed never to learn. When she'd confronted Cynthia, Alicia had been fed the same old routine. The devilish girl had told her that she was better off without a dishonest, cheating man, had told her that it was all a favour. Alicia, of course, had screamed back what a load of bullshit that was. The two came to scraps, as usual; Alicia lost and wound up at her sister's mercy, as usual.
The worst part was, each of the two sisters knew eachother inside and out. They each knew the other's strengths, and they knew the other's weaknesses. One secret had remained guarded closely between them; they were both desperately and impossibly ticklish. Even though she'd been wronged, Alicia was forced to endure an unbearable, mind-shattering foot tickling at her sister's cruel nails. Cynthia had mocked her about how this was the price she paid for spurning her good will, had teased her endlessly about how it was her fate to always lose, all the while tracing maddening, unbearable trails of ticklish agony up and down her soles. When it was over, as it had been so many times in the past, the honest and good girl was left sobbing in defeat while the scoundrelous one walked away whistling dixie.
Slapping another sticker on the box, Alicia let an uncharacteristically cruel grin take her lips. Never again would Cynthia win. Never again would that bitch gloat and lord over her.
No, this time, she would lose. Cynthia was about to learn a hard, painful lesson in karma.
Though the day began just like so many before, it would end like no other. One sister would triumph forever, and the other would be trapped in a hell of regret, repenting for sins she could never repent for the rest of her days. Alicia looked down at the box lovingly, stared with pride and admiration at the tool of her sister's undoing. It was an old family relic, a massive travel chest with sturdy wooden walls and strong bronze locks. With some help from a local woodsmith, a set of five padded holes had been crafted in the front. It still looked like a chest, sure enough, but it's function had been altered. For Cynthia, it would be an inescapable prison. One by one, almost lovingly, Alicia read off the stickers that had been irremovably glued all over the sinister "chest."
- I'm a bitch!
- I'm an asshole!
- Ignore my moaning.
- I deserve to be in here.
- Insult me!
- I'm nasty!
- I like to be tickled.
- Anyway, my sister was merciful.
It had taken months, but finally it was done. The tool of her sister's undoing was complete, and so were the circumstances needed to make it work. The police, town hall, everybody agreed that this was nothing more than a case of public justice. Cynthia would be locked in the chest, completely naked, gagged and helpless. The chest - devil sister and all - would be left on a busy corner of the town. Everyone who passed would tickle her trapped, helpless feet, all day long. And Cynthia - the Queen of Bitches, so used to being in control, would scream and thrash and struggle helplessly while her bare, trapped soles were tickled mercilessly, unendingly.
Best of all, this was no short, one-time lesson. When the day was over, the sherif would come and find her all locked up. Rather than offering her help, that whore would be arrested for public indency. In their little town, that was at least a three year sentence; with town hall against her, she'd easily serve ten. Of course, the sherrif would take her to lockup. She'd scream and wail and fight helplessly against her cuffs, but in the end she'd be tossed in the cell. Crying tears of bitter, agonizing defeat, she'd be locked away in a small, dingy cell. Her charms and her whiles would do her not one bit of good. The dreaded harlot Cynthia would be jailed through her prime, and there wasn't a soul in the world that could save her.
Alicia felt herself shiver with joy at the thought of her sister's face when she realized the extent of her torment. Her punishment wouldn't be as simple as rotting in a jail, either. Every day, bright and early, she'd be locked back into that chest. She'd scream and thrash and struggle, beg and plead and cry, but ultimately, she'd be locked in and left to the mercy of the townsfolk. For the next ten years, that woman who had done so much wrong, stolen and broken so many hearts, ruined so many innocent dreams, would be tickled from dawn to dusk by an unforgiving town.
There was absolutely nothing Cynthia could do to stop it; a true lesson in karma. The thought almost made Alicia hot.
"Siiis? You there? What the fuck did you want?"
The voice woke Alicia from her dreaming. She'd invited Cynthia over for lunch, all in accordance with the plan. Of course the bitch would show up late and be impatient. That was just who she was; it was one of the many reasons she had been condemned to the hell that waited for her in that box.
"I'm coming, Cyn! Just hold on a second!"
Giving the chest one last loving look, Alicia trotted down the attic stairs towards her kitchen. She stepped out with a smile, giving her sister a big hug.
"Woa, Ally...are you alright?" asked Cynthia, mock-concern in her voice.
"I'm fine. Can't a girl be happy to see her big sister?"
Laughing bitterly, Cynthia rolled her eyes. Sitting at the table, she leaned back in her chair and gave Alicia a suspicious look.
"Well, what is it?" the older sister asked, wasting no time.
"I just wanted to have a talk," responded Alicia. She set down a coffee for her sister, than sat and began to sip her own.
There was a moment of silence as the two girls sipped their coffee. Each was in their early twenties; the older 23, the younger 21. The both of them had straight blond hair, doe blue eyes, and soft, baby-doll faces. Alicia had often wondered how her sister had been so skilled at stealing away men when they looked so similar each to the other. She also supposed it wouldn't matter, shortly. After a moment, the bitchy homewrecker spoke again.
"What is there to talk about?" sniped Cynthia.
"A lot, actually," Alicia responded. She paused, taking a sip of her coffee. To her unsurpassed glee, her sister did the same.
"This'd better not be the same shit as last time," warned Cynthia. "You know what happens." The girl paused, giving a cruel smile.
"Unless you wanna end up crying again, like always."
Giving her older sister a deeply sour look, Alicia huffed and finished her coffee. A moment later her sister did the same. Another few moments passed in silence; after a short eternity, Alicia's lips parted in a mocking, cruel smile, and she began to speak.
"No, I don't. You don't understand, Cyn. Today, you lose."
"What are you on about?" Cynthia retorted with a laugh. "You really wanna...try...again...?"
As if she'd had a ton of bricks dropped on her head, Cynthia's whole world began to spin. She shot up from her chair, knocking the now-empty coffee mug away, swaying and stumbling in place. Laughing strongly, bitterly, Alicia stood as well, stepping towards her sister.
"Like I said, Cyn..." the younger sister stated, her smile now grown ear to ear, putting a finger to her drugged older sister's forehead. "You...lose!"
With no effort at all, Alicia knocked the scandalous whore that had marred her whole life - her family's, her village's lives - back into her chair. Though dazed, Cynthia looked back up at her sister with a look of horror.
"Y...you...you wouldn't!" she protested weakly, her limbs growing heavy. "Ally...!"
"Goodnight, Cynthia," Alicia chirped in a mocking, sing-song voice. "I really hope you enjoy these next ten years...!"
---------------------------------------
When she finally woke up, it didn't take long to notice that she'd been locked up. Tightly secured in a crate, her head poked from the middle, her hands each a few inches to the sides of that, and her soft, high-arched size 10 feet each a foot and a half away towards the ends. There were a few muscle-jolting shakes, feeble and useless struggles. Of course, the crate held her tight, and over the next few minutes every last bit of fighting and struggling she did amounted to nothing. The tool of her torture had been made well, and nothing she would ever, could ever do, no matter how insanely, desperately she wanted it, would break her free.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" she shouted into her gag with wild abandon, fingers and toes flexing with agonizing frustration. The sound of laughter filled her ears, and a moment later she heard speaking.
"Well well, if our little sleeping beauty hasn't woken up!" a man's voice stated, met by the cheering laughs of many. "We've been waiting for you."
She renewed her struggling with all of her might, pulling and thrashing and using every last ounce of strength she'd been born with and then some. Tears of maddening impotence formed in her eyes as the absolute, sanity-crushing inescapability of her bondage became utterly clear to her.
"You're a bitch!" one man cried, closing in on the panicked girl.
"You're an asshole!" shouted another.
"We'll ignore your moaning," a third man informed her.
"After all, you deserve to be in there," yet another informed her, placing a fingertip on her sole. She shook her head wildly from side to side, howling in frustrated outrage.
"Fuckin' slut!" cried one, heeding the sticker's advice to insult her.
"You're nasty!" shouted another, this one reading the sticker more or less verbatum.
"You like to be tickled, huh?" asked one, placing a fingertip on her other sole. Again she screamed into her gag at the top of her lungs, tears rolling from both eyes, fighting against all hope to break free from the solid, diabolical chest stocks. She failed.
"Anyways, your sister was merciful," informed the last. Those words drummed home in her ears like a thousand funeral bells.
Her sister was merciful, the sticker said. Meanwhile, greedy, lustful, vengeful fingers began exacting their penance upon her helpless, trapped, agonizingly tender and sensitive souls. She howled in desperate agony at their merest touch. Her whole life, she could never bear being touched on her soles, even the slightest bit. Now, she was helpless. Trapped to bear the unbearable, as long as these men wanted. Again she screamed, cried in outrage, thrashed against her unyeilding bondage. A bondage she knew she would be forced to live with day after day, a bondage that would leave her intollerably sensitive soles at the mercy of these men day after day.
Today, she was learning a lesson neither her mind nor soul could bear. A lesson in karma. As she faded into the indescribably agony of being trapped in a world of torment she would give anything to escape and never could, her sister's last words played through her mind once more.
"Sweet Alicia, you really did try hard, didn't you? It's a shame, I swear! You really put a lot of work into this one. Why, if the town clerk's son wasn't so damn wild for me, you would've probably gotten away with it. Unfortunately for you, though, he is...and even worse, I have a higher tolerance to GHB than you do. I woke up first...and unfortunately for you, I'm not going to be spending the next ten years in that box you worked so hard on. You are."
"Look on the bright side, Ally-hun! You put a lot of work into it, so it'd be a shame for it all to go to waste. I'm going to be skipping town with Eddy, so it wouldn't be any good for me. You, on the other hand, will fit the roll perfectly. I've already snipped up your hair and done your makeup, so they'll never even think it's not me. I'll get you all locked up in this box of yours now - there you are - and you're good to go!"
"I'm sorry, Ally," Cynthia spoke in a mocking, tauntingly sweet voice, the same she had used herself right before passing out. "You lose."
---------------------------------------
Alicia let out one more cry of maddened frustration, one more muffled call to the heavens for justice. There came no response but the dancing of tormenting fingers on her soles.
Cynthia, who had caused her so much suffering in the past, was free to live her life as she wished, with who she wished, free of retribution. Alicia, mean while, would spend every day of the next 10 years suffering day after day of a torment she could not bear, but had no choice but to bear. She would be insulted, spat upon, and tickled mercilessly for ten years. She would be left in display inescapably locked in a chest she had designed herself, with insults she had written herself permanently glued to her. And she - Alicia - would be tortured endlessly, driven mad and mad and beyond, day in and out, for ten years.
A torture she had orchestrated.
A torture she would suffer for her older sister, who roamed free.
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Note: This art was my inspiration, but does not belong to me. I do not know who the highly talented artist responsible for this piece is.
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