@hidden When I died, I went to Heaven. But there were no harps or pearly gates. No, instead there were stunning starscapes like spilled sand, eldritch monsters, poised elegant and grotesque, ships brooding in nighttime oceans, galaxies, skulls, the murmuring of an enchanted forest. And sitting on the black throne was Colleen, radiant, omniscient, forgiving. I saw my entire personal timeline unravel in front of us, every glorious W, every terrible L. She reached out a glowing hand and said,

"My beloved child, in every hellthread, with every shitpost, I was there for you. Every star in my sky watches over you."

Indeed, every one of my posts had a shining star, a mark of friendship, a reassurance, a promise from a guardian angel whom I had come to know only too late.

But I took a closer look. In my worst moments, when I was most beaten down, broken by the rain of wrenches, barely able to muster a fallacious argument or an ad hominem attack, let alone a humorous comeback, when I was caught slippin' and was unable to defend my honor - those tragic nadirs of my posting history did not have stars.

Doubt flickered across my mind. Could Colleen have abandoned me, her child whom she claimed to love, in my time of greatest need?

I asked her, tentatively, scorned by betrayal yet fearful of her power: "Why didn't you favorite my posts when I was at the worst risk of becoming soy?"

Colleen smiled, radiant in that ultraviolet glory, and said,

"My child, it was then that I hacked your computer and wrote your posts for you."

cc @scenesbycolleen