Twas the night before absoutly fμck all And all through the threads Not a creature was stirring Not even the trolls. Even though the help section was placed with great care, People still manage to post stupid shit there. Even though I'm tucked nicely into bed Somehow I manage to be here on this thread. The op present a challenges for we Must we open this box creatively? I guess so, since I have no other choice Except for listing to the sound of a p¤rnstar's voice. Because lonely am I And all the people I ask always deny. But that's not the point, time to open this box. God damn it, I hope I didn't go through all this for fμcking socks. The box seems to be in packaging stronger than Fort Knox How the mental fμck am I going to get into this box? I got! Scissors are the key For entering the box that has forever doomed we. I grab the scissors, and [i]snip, snip, snip[/i] But this tape seems to be tighter than your mother's pμssy lips. Oh no, did I say that? I apologize, for this box has frustrated me. Hopefully, I will still be in favour of the op. Since scissors did not work, maybe there is a lock? This box is so heavy! Is it just a concrete block? But, how could this be? It is just a cardboard box, you see? Mr. Op, why would you put this burden on me? What do you want from me? Hookers, money, power? I have none of those, but I certainly can scour. [b]sigh[/b], I feel this is inevitable. It's either this, or reading political/religion threads, most severely illegible. I have no idea how to open this Something as strong as this... "Eureka!" I scream, over come with glee. That lightsaber I found last year, under the christmas tree. Wrapped so delicate, with my name marked all over Sometimes I stay awake at night, wondering if it's why I cannot get a lover? That does not matter now, I need to get in, I run to my room with a stupid grin. I fling open the door, ahh, my humble abode. The walls covered in posters, and stick-on stars that glowed. There it is - sweet relief From this hell the op bestowed upon me. I grab the sword that sat between the Indiana Jones Lego Set and GI Joe figurines. I brush off the dust, and switch it on The glowing red light left me awestruck; like a mother deer who has first seen her little, beautiful fawn. I rush to the box, excited for what I might see. What if its something special for me? With careful precision, I cut tape. The box popped open, and a something dark sat in the box - something so dark, I could not see the shape. I bent down to get a better look Did he give me a fμcking book? It's something else. Words I can't read. I got a lot closer, destined to succeed. I finally got close enough to read. The words read "To find what's in this box, you must impress the op." This is why I am here, dear reader. Writing this fμcking poem, just trying to impress this thread leader. Take my advice People have done this once, sometimes twice. The op is not easily impressed, you see. Hence why this poem took so much energy out of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go. I surely hope you enjoyed my tales of woe. [spoiler]this took me a fμCking hour. I need a life.[/spoiler]