pp bot

I used to have a normal life. Job. Friends. Parents who still answered my calls. Then I discovered pp bot. It started innocent. Just /new to spawn a little pp. A quick /grow before bed. “One more /beg,” I told myself. “Just to hit 1k length.” Weeks later I’m waking up at 3am to hospital my pp after a bad /raid. I quit my job because “the multipliers are too good right now.” Friends stopped texting because I only replied with 🍆 stats. My parents begged me to stop. Dad said “son, this bot is killing you.” Mom cried when she saw the pill bottles on my desk. I told them “it’s just a game.” I kept grinding. Bought 500 pills. One night I came home from a 48-hour /casino binge. Found the note on the kitchen table: “We can’t watch you destroy yourself anymore. We love you, but we can’t live like this.” They both hung themselves in the garage while I was farming pp. Now my pp is 200 billion inches long. I have every seasonal item. I’m top 1 in the leaderboard. But my parents are dead. And every time I type /show, I see their faces in the void between the numbers.