WRAPPED HEAD TO TOE IN CAMOUFLAGE BEHIND BALACLAVA AND MECHANICAL KEEYBOARD TAKING COVER IN A BURNED OUT TAG GROUP THE WEHRWULF OV THE FUHRER CHECKS HIS REMAINING MEME CACHE. A DAVID BOWIE CALLOUT DETONATES IN A NEARBY THREAD AND THE BODIES OV THE NORMIES GATHERED AROUND ARE MULCHED BY THE BLAST. SPATTERED CLOUT STRIKES THE SEASONED MEMER WHO LAUGHS BEFORE WHISPERING "NOTHIN PERSONNEL KID" TO THE CORPSES. HE TEARS THE CORNER FROM A TOTINOS PIZZA ROLL MRE AND FANTASIZES ABOUT WARS HE WILL NEVER FIGHT IN. NECKBEARD HAIRS POKING THROUGH THE KNIT OV THE MASK. UNIRONIC BELIEF THAT HIS SHARED CONTENT PUTS HIM ON THE FRONT LINE OV US POLITICS. MEME SOLDIER. FUCKING LOSER.