>be me
>25yo, living with parents, professional minecraft modder (unpaid)
>3am, slight hunger, mom is asleep
>remember the local chicken place does a 24hr drive thru
>only have a bicycle
>"ill just ride over there anon, what's the worst that could happen"
>throw on a crocs, a robe, and the bathrobe cord because i don't own a belt
>arrive at drive thru
>nobody else in line
>pull up to speaker on bicycle
>"sir you have to be in a vehicle"
>"this IS a vehicle"
>"sir"
>"ma'am"
>stare contest through invisible speaker
>i win because she can't see me
>"welcome to cluck hut, what can i get you"
>"yes i would like to order the 20 piece tendie meal"
>"sir we don't have a 20 piece"
>"then i would like two 10 pieces"
>"we only sell them in 8s"
>"ok then i would like 2.5 of the 8 pieces"
>long pause
>"sir that's not how numbers work"
>"ma'am i went to community college for three semesters i know how numbers work"
>she hangs up the speaker
>can't hang up a speaker
>ride around to the window
>there is no one there
>the drive thru is fully unmanned
>i can see the timer above the prep station from the window
>it says 00:00:00
>the tendies in the warming tray are perfectly still
>i think they are watching me
>>847291079
i'm not telling you where i am greg
>continuing
>ok the tendies are definitely watching me
>there are 8 of them
>they are arranged in a rough triangle. 1, 2, 2, 3
>this is the holy triangle of the tendie, anons
>i know this because my uncle was in the navy
>i tap on the drive thru window
>nobody comes
>tap harder
>the window slides open on its own
>cold air rushes out, smells like sanitizer and the inside of a microwave
>i lean in
>"hello???"
>my voice echoes
>a drive thru window should not echo
>i am now extremely committed to this order
>ok so
>i climb halfway through the drive thru window
>technically one leg still on the bike, one leg inside the kitchen
>reach toward the warming tray
>the tendies haven't moved
>but i can feel them judging me
>my robe gets caught on the ketchup dispenser
>bathrobe cord unties
>robe falls off entirely
>now i am wearing only crocs, boxers that say "FART LOADING", and a look of determination
>THE FRONT DOOR CHIMES
>someone has entered the dining room
>i can't see them from my window-straddle position
>but i hear footsteps
>they are very deliberate footsteps
>the kind of footsteps a man makes when he knows exactly where the tendies are
>footsteps get closer
>i still can't see him because the warming tray is blocking my view
>i very slowly try to extract myself from the window
>my crocs squeak on the stainless steel counter
>TENDIES WITNESS MY SQUEAKING
>the footsteps stop
>a voice, very calm, very close
>"sir."
>"sir, you are in the restaurant."
>i peek over the warming tray
>it's a middle aged man
>he is wearing a cluck hut uniform
>a name tag that says "GREG, MANAGER"
>anons
>ANONS
>GREG IS IN THE THREAD
>>847291577
greg we will circle back to you. you have a lot to answer for.
>fake greg is now pointing at me
>not at my face
>at the warming tray
>"sir, did you touch the tendies."
>"no"
>"sir your hand is in the tendies"
>look down
>my hand is, in fact, in the tendies
>when did that happen
>i can't remember putting it there
>i swear to god anons i have been WATCHING the tendies this whole time
>they are playing me
>i start to pull my hand out
>one of the tendies is stuck to my thumb
>not stuck like breading stuck
>STUCK like it is holding on
>"sir put down the tendie"
>"i can't sir it won't let go"
>"SIR PUT DOWN THE TENDIE"
>FART LOADING boxers
>one croc
>sentient breaded chicken
>fake greg
>real greg watching in horror from home
this is peak. this is IT. this is why i come here.
>ok im typing this one handed because i am currently still attached to a chicken tender
>let me be clear
>the chicken is not attached to me
>i am attached to the chicken
>there is a difference anons. a metaphysical one.
>fake greg slowly walks around the prep station
>he is holding a pair of tongs
>like, the little serving tongs
>but he's holding them the way a priest holds an aspergillum
>"sir, i am going to need you to lower the tendie into the holding bag"
>"the holding bag"
>"the holding bag"
>he gestures to a paper bag on the counter
>the bag has a smiley face drawn on it in sharpie
>the smiley face has X's for eyes
>anons
>i do not want to lower the tendie into the holding bag
>but the tendie wants to be in the holding bag
>i can feel it
>my thumb is not mine anymore
>it belongs to the bird
>ok i made my decision
>i am going to eat the tendie
>EAT OR BE EATEN anons
>this is the law of the kitchen
>i lift the tendie toward my mouth
>fake greg's eyes go wide
>"sir. sir do not."
>"SIR THAT IS TODAY'S TENDIE"
>i stop
>"what"
>"THAT IS TODAY'S TENDIE SIR"
>he is now backing away
>he has dropped the tongs
>the tongs hit the tile floor with a clink that feels legally significant
>"what is today's tendie fake greg"
>he doesn't answer
>he is crossing himself
>fake greg is crossing himself in the middle of a cluck hut at 4am
>the tendie in my hand is now very warm
>it was not warm before
>the warming tray has been off
>my thumb is definitely not mine anymore
>the skin feels crispy
op is becoming the tendie. op is UNDERGOING THE TRANSFORMATION. this is how cluck hut recruits. i've heard rumors about this. i didn't want to believe.
the prophecy is real. i have been warning you all for YEARS. the cluck hut franchise is a front. each location has ONE true tendie per day. it chooses the vessel. the manager is the cleric. op walked in off the street. op was not supposed to find it.
>ok
>OK
>i am typing this with my nose because my right hand is now 60% breading
>i was going to eat the tendie
>i really was
>but then i looked at fake greg
>and fake greg said, very softly
>"sir. if you eat today's tendie. you will be tomorrow's tendie."
>and i thought about it
>i really thought about it anons
>being a tendie means no more taxes
>no more dating apps
>no more mom asking when i'm getting a real job
>i would just be warm and crispy on a tray
>loved by all
>judged by none
>a lesser anon would have taken the deal
>but i am built different
>i put the tendie down
>slowly
>gently
>i place it in the exact center of the smiley face holding bag
>my thumb is still 60% breading but i can feel it receding
>fake greg exhales
>he says "thank you sir"
>he hands me a receipt
>the receipt is blank
>no
>it is not blank
>there is one line of text on it
>it says
>"YOU WERE THE 847,291,013TH CUSTOMER. THANK YOU FOR YOUR RESTRAINT."
>i pocket the receipt
>or rather, i pocket it into my FART LOADING boxers because i have no other pockets
>the robe is still on the ketchup dispenser
>i grab the robe
>tie the bathrobe cord
>fake greg watches me the whole time
>"sir would you like the 8 piece meal for the road"
>i look at the warming tray
>there are now 7 tendies
>7
>the holy triangle is broken
>i broke it, anons
>i broke the holy triangle
>"no thank you"
>fake greg nods like he understands
>he turns around
>i climb back through the window
>get back on my bicycle
>it is now raining
>it was not raining before
>i start pedaling home
>the whole ride home i can feel the receipt in my boxers getting warmer
>like body temp warm
>not paper warm
>something between a small animal and a receipt
>i get home
>3:58am
>wait
>no
>my phone says 3:58am
>but i LEFT at 3am
>and i was in the cluck hut for what felt like an hour
>and i biked home in the rain for like 15 minutes
>my phone should say 4:20am minimum
>i lost time anons
>OR i GAINED time
>i don't know which is worse
>i sneak inside
>mom is still asleep
>i tip toe past her door
>go to my room
>close the door
>pull the receipt out of my boxers
>the text has changed
>it now reads: "WELCOME BACK TO THE THREAD, OP."
>anons
>the receipt is reading this thread
>IT IS READING WHAT YOU ARE POSTING RIGHT NOW
op FLUSH the receipt. FLUSH IT. do not let it near water. do not let it near fire. do not look at it directly. put it in an envelope. mail it to someone you hate.
ok so i just got off the phone with corporate. i am not allowed to say anything specific. but if you are op please return the receipt to ANY cluck hut drive thru and we will handle it from there. you will not be charged. there will be no questions asked. please. please op.
>ok
>i put the receipt in a mason jar
>screwed the lid on tight
>put the mason jar inside another mason jar
>because i am not an idiot
>put the double jar inside my old lunchbox from middle school
>the one with the cartoon on it i will not name for opsec
>put the lunchbox in my closet
>close the closet
>sit on my bed
>mom knocks on the door
>"sweetie are you awake?"
>it is 4am
>"yes mom i'm awake"
>"sweetie why is there a chicken tender on the kitchen counter"
>anons
>anons
>i did not bring a chicken tender home
>i made a point of not bringing a chicken tender home
>"mom please do not touch the chicken tender"
>"it was in a little paper bag with a smiley face on it sweetie"
>"MOM"
>"the smiley face has x's for eyes sweetie isn't that cute"
>"MOM DO NOT EAT THE CHICKEN TENDER"
>"i already ate half of it honey, it was really good, did you get it from that nice man"
>WHAT NICE MAN MOM
>WHAT NICE MAN
op listen to me very carefully. fake greg followed you home. fake greg has been in your kitchen. check the front door. check if it is locked. check if it was locked when you got in.
>i run to the front door
>it is unlocked
>i DEFINITELY locked it when i came in
>i remember because the deadbolt sticks and i had to jiggle it
>it is not jiggled now
>it is unlocked like someone just walked in behind me
>i check the kitchen
>mom is sitting at the breakfast bar
>she is wearing her robe
>there is a paper bag in front of her
>smiley face, x eyes
>inside the bag is half a tendie
>the other half is, presumably, in mom
>"mom where did you get this"
>"sweetie a very nice gentleman came by about an hour ago"
>"mom it's 4am"
>"he said you ordered it for me sweetie, he said you were being very thoughtful"
>"mom what did the gentleman look like"
>"oh he was wearing a cluck hut uniform sweetie, he had a name tag, gary i think"
>"gary"
>"or greg"
>"greg"
>"yes sweetie, greg, is that your friend"
>i look at her
>really look at her
>her eyes are fine
>she looks normal
>too normal
>her robe has a little grease spot on the sleeve
>the exact shape of a chicken tender
>ok here is where it gets really bad anons
>i look past mom
>through the kitchen window
>into the backyard
>there is a figure standing by the shed
>it is wearing a cluck hut uniform
>it is holding a pair of tongs
>it is just standing there
>in the rain
>at 4am
>waving at me
>SLOWLY
>mom can't see him because her back is to the window
>i point at the window
>"mom the man is in the backyard"
>"oh how nice sweetie, invite him in for coffee"
>"MOM NO"
>i run to the closet
>get the lunchbox
>get the double mason jar
>the receipt is GLOWING
>text changes: "LET HIM IN, OP."
>NO
>text changes again: "LET. HIM. IN."
>NO RECEIPT
>text changes: "YOU HAVE 60 SECONDS."
>a little ascii timer starts counting down on the receipt
>i did not know receipts could do that
>>847293279
>this anon gets it
>i grab the lunchbox
>run to the back door
>45 seconds on the receipt
>i slide the glass door open
>fake greg is still by the shed
>still waving
>i shout "HERE IS YOUR TENDIE PROPERTY BACK"
>i hurl the lunchbox at him
>it sails through the rain
>in slow motion
>the lunchbox lands at his feet
>he looks down at it
>he picks it up with the tongs
>he opens it
>he looks inside
>he looks UP at me
>he smiles
>it is not a friendly smile
>it is the smile of a man who just won something at an auction
>he takes the mason jar out of the lunchbox
>unscrews it
>takes out the receipt
>holds it up to the rain
>the rain hits the receipt
>it begins to rehydrate
>it is growing
>oh no
>oh no anons
>this is a wet tendie event
>the receipt is growing
>it is unfolding
>there are more lines of text on it now
>a lot more
>the rain is making it bigger and bigger
>it is the size of a newspaper
>then a bedsheet
>then a tarp
>fake greg is holding it spread out now like a big wet shroud
>i can see writing on it from across the yard
>it is a LIST
>it is a list of NAMES
>anons
>the names are user names
>my user names
>every username i have ever had
>the one from neopets
>the one from runescape
>the one from the first forum i ever posted on in 2009
>the one i use here
>all of them
>the entire history of my online existence
>written on a giant wet receipt
>held by fake greg in my backyard
>at 4am
>in the rain
>wearing a bathrobe tied with a bathrobe cord
>mom steps up behind me
>"sweetie what is that man holding"
>"i don't know mom"
>"it looks like a very big receipt"
>"yes mom"
>"sweetie why does the receipt have all your usernames on it"
>I NEVER TOLD HER MY USERNAMES
>HOW CAN SHE READ THEM FROM HERE
>HOW DID SHE KNOW THEY WERE USERNAMES
>i'm not telling you my neopets username
>it was bad
>it had the word "xXx" in it
>anyway
>i turn to mom very slowly
>"mom"
>"yes sweetie"
>"mom how do you know what a username is"
>"i took a computer class in 1998 sweetie"
>"mom in 1998 they didn't call them usernames they called them handles"
>she goes quiet
>REAL quiet
>"mom"
>"yes sweetie"
>"mom did you eat today's tendie"
>"yes sweetie"
>"mom do you know what today's tendie is"
>long pause
>"sweetie i have known what today's tendie is since 1998"
>anons
>ANONS
>MY MOM HAS BEEN A TENDIE CULTIST SINCE 1998
>HER COMPUTER CLASS WAS A COVER
>THIS ENTIRE THING WAS A SETUP
>SHE SENT ME TO THAT DRIVE THRU
>SHE KNEW IT WAS OPEN
>SHE KNEW IT WAS 3AM
>SHE PACKED ME A BATHROBE CORD INSTEAD OF A BELT
op everyone around you is a tendie. the barista tomorrow is a tendie. your dentist is a tendie. the priest at your cousin's wedding is a tendie. you are the only non-tendie in a tendie world.
>i step back from mom
>very slowly
>she does not follow me
>she just smiles
>"sweetie you had your chance to be the tendie"
>"you said no"
>"we were going to be so proud of you"
>"you had RESTRAINT anon, do you know how rare that is? do you know what you could have BEEN?"
>"mom i don't want to be a chicken tender"
>"no one ever does at first sweetie"
>i back into the kitchen counter
>my hand touches something metal
>it's a spatula
>i grab the spatula
>i raise the spatula like a sword
>"STAY BACK"
>mom laughs
>"sweetie spatulas do not work on us. we were born in a fryer."
>the thing in the backyard starts walking toward the house
>slow
>slow
>the tongs clicking with each step
>click
>click
>click
>>847294062
>hive mind genius
>i drop the spatula
>run to the pantry
>mom is slow because she is technically 40% chicken now
>i rip open the pantry
>grab the flour
>grab the baking powder
>grab the cornstarch because i am not taking chances
>mom is at the kitchen door
>"sweetie what are you doing"
>"IM UN-BREADING YOU MOM"
>"sweetie that is not how it works"
>"IT IS NOW MOM"
>i throw the flour at her
>then the cornstarch
>then the baking powder
>she is just standing there covered in white powder
>looking disappointed
>"sweetie you are just breading me MORE"
>OH NO
>OH NO ANONS
>OH NO
>I AM BREADING MY OWN MOTHER
>i hear the fake greg at the back door
>the sliding glass is opening
>click click click on the hardwood
>the tongs are so loud now
>mom turns to him
>"honey, our son is being very silly"
>HONEY
>HONEY?
>MOM
>MOM NO
>IS FAKE GREG MY STEPDAD?
op's real father was a tendie. op's real father was the ORIGINAL tendie. this is why op was chosen. this is why the warming tray watched him. this is why op's thumb crisped. op is the heir.
>i back away from both of them
>fake greg is in the kitchen now
>mom is covered in flour
>the kitchen is covered in flour
>a little flour cloud hangs in the air
>it is very peaceful somehow
>i realize something
>my dad
>my REAL dad
>left when i was five
>mom said he "went to get cigarettes"
>she said it was a joke but not really
>she said he worked at a "restaurant"
>i never knew what restaurant
>she never told me
>i ask her, calmly
>"mom"
>"yes sweetie"
>"mom where did my father work"
>she smiles
>fake greg smiles
>they smile together
>in unison
>"sweetie, your father was the tendie. the original tendie. the first tendie. the one that started it all."
>"he didn't leave sweetie. he was promoted."
>i am going to be completely honest with you anons
>this hit me like a truck
>i sat down on the flour-covered floor
>i am still sitting here
>typing on my phone
>with flour on my thumbs
>he didn't leave sweetie. he was promoted.
i am crying. i am actually crying. op this is beautiful. your dad was a tendie. your dad IS a tendie. that is the most relatable back story i have ever read.
op you are literally the chosen one. this is a shounen anime. you have to train. you have to defeat the big tendie. you have to save the world from poultry.
>i check my thumb
>it is still breaded
>it never stopped being breaded
>i just got used to it
>you get used to a lot of things anons
>i look up at mom and fake greg
>they are holding hands
>it is actually pretty sweet
>in a completely horrifying way
>i stand up
>flour on my robe, flour in my hair, one breaded thumb
>"ok"
>"ok mom. ok fake greg. or whatever your name is."
>"what happens now"
>mom beams
>"sweetie now you go meet your father"
>"where"
>fake greg points out the window
>not at the shed this time
>at the sky
>there is a shape in the sky
>a very large shape
>it is a hovering, golden, 8-piece box of chicken tenders
>it is approximately the size of a school bus
>it is descending slowly toward my backyard
>there is soft religious choral music playing
>somehow
>the box opens
>in the middle of the box is a single tendie
>but it is a BIG tendie
>roughly man-sized
>it is wearing a tiny crown
>the crown is edible
>i can tell somehow
>the big tendie looks at me
>it has no eyes but i feel its gaze
>it opens a mouth it does not have
>and it says, in my dead father's voice
>"hey champ. long time."
>ok anons
>i am stepping out into the backyard
>it is still raining
>the golden 8-piece box is still hovering
>the big tendie is still in the middle of it
>it is still wearing the edible crown
>my dead father's voice is still coming out of its non-mouth
>he says "come here champ, it's been twenty years"
>twenty years
>has it really been twenty years
>i was five
>i am twenty five
>math checks out
>i walk toward the box
>one foot in front of the other
>crocs squelching in the wet grass
>bathrobe dragging
>the choral music swells
>it is Sister Act but the nuns are chickens
>i stop in front of the tendie
>up close i can see the breading
>it is perfectly golden
>not a crack in it
>not a single flaw
>this is a TENDIE
>this is what the platonic form of a tendie looks like
>i reach out a hand
>the breaded thumb
>i touch the tendie
>it is warm
>not hot
>warm like a hand
>warm like a dad's hand
>i start crying anons
>i am crying in the rain in my backyard with my hand on a giant chicken tender wearing a crown
>i did not expect this thread to go here
>i am sorry
>the big tendie speaks again
>"champ. i have to ask you something."
>"anything dad"
>"champ. do you want to be the next tendie."
>my heart stops
>this is the moment
>this is the moment the whole thread has been building to
>this is the reason mom sent me to cluck hut at 3am
>this is the reason i broke the holy triangle
>this is the reason the receipt knew my usernames
>this is my destiny anons
>to be a tendie
>to be warm
>to be crispy
>to be loved by all
>to be judged by none
>to hover in a golden 8-piece box
>to wear an edible crown
>to watch over all the little tendies
>to be promoted
>but
>BUT
>i look back at the house
>mom is in the doorway watching me
>fake greg is standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder
>the rain is falling on my minecraft modded hoodie which is upstairs
>and i think about my unpaid modding work
>i think about the server i run with six people on it
>i think about the girl on that server who laughs at my jokes sometimes
>her name is brittany and she lives in the midwest
>i have never met her in person
>but we have a planned minecraft wedding in june
>anons
>i can't leave brittany at the altar
>i can't be a tendie
>i have a life
>a small life
>a pathetic life
>a life i am typing to you from the floor of a flour-covered kitchen
>BUT IT IS MY LIFE
>i look my tendie father in his non-eyes
>"dad"
>"yes champ"
>"dad i cannot be the next tendie"
>"dad i am getting married in minecraft in june"
op you ABSOLUTE UNIT. you chose brittany over tendie godhood. this is the most romantic thing ever posted on this board. my tears are tendie-flavored tears.
>>847295074
this is what ASCENSION looks like. this is what it means to TRANSCEND. not by becoming a chicken tender. by CHOOSING not to become a chicken tender. the real tendie was the love we found along the way.
>dad looks at me for a long time
>non-eyes but i can feel them
>then he says
>"champ"
>"yeah dad"
>"champ i respect that"
>"really"
>"yeah. being a tendie isn't for everyone. it wasn't even for me, not at first. but when you meet the right fryer, you just know."
>"dad that is the tendie version of 'when you know you know'"
>"it is champ. you learn a lot when you're in a warming tray for twenty years."
>i laugh
>he laughs
>or whatever the tendie equivalent of laughing is
>it sounds like someone shaking a bag of chips
>it is the best sound i have ever heard
>he says "champ i have to go back up now"
>"where is up dad"
>"the big drive thru in the sky champ"
>"is it nice up there"
>"the ranch never runs out champ"
>i nod
>i understand
>i think i understand
>he reaches out a breaded arm
>not to pull me in
>just to pat my shoulder
>he pats my shoulder
>it leaves a little bit of breading there
>he says "tell brittany i said hi"
>"i will dad"
>"and champ"
>"yeah"
>"for the love of god, learn to use a belt"
>i cry harder
ok i was laughing but now i am actually crying. this is the best thing this board has ever produced. op you have healed something in me i did not know was broken.
i can't believe a greentext about a 25 year old neet in FART LOADING boxers got me emotionally invested in a chicken tender's afterlife but here we are
>the golden 8-piece box starts to rise
>dad is going back up
>the choral chicken music is swelling
>the box is glowing brighter
>i shield my eyes
>when i look up again
>the box is gone
>the sky is empty
>just normal, rainy, 5am sky
>mom and fake greg are still standing in the doorway
>but they look different now
>mom is just mom
>fake greg is just fake greg
>they look tired
>the kind of tired you get when a ritual has ended
>mom walks over to me
>she hugs me
>"sweetie i'm so proud of you"
>"mom you wanted me to become a chicken nugget"
>"tender, sweetie"
>"mom"
>"it's what your father would have wanted. the top of the tendie hierarchy. you would have been so warm sweetie."
>"mom"
>"but i understand. brittany seems like a nice girl."
>"mom how do you know about brittany"
>"sweetie i read your minecraft chat logs every tuesday when you shower"
>mom
>MOM
>we go back inside
>fake greg makes us tea
>yeah he just makes tea now
>he is very polite
>he tells me his real name is actually steve
>steve has been dating mom for six years
>i never noticed him
>because steve has been a chicken tender this whole time and i assumed he was a kitchen appliance
>i owe steve an apology
>i apologize to steve
>steve accepts my apology
>steve is a good guy
>steve pours me a cup of tea
>the tea is perfect
>it is exactly the right temperature
>the kind of tea only a chicken tender could make
>steve has been dating mom for six years
>i never noticed him
>because steve has been a chicken tender this whole time and i assumed he was a kitchen appliance
i cannot breathe. i cannot BREATHE
STEVE. HIS NAME IS STEVE. i love steve. steve is my new favorite character. steve has suffered. steve has been ignored. steve makes perfect tea. steve is the real hero.
>ok anons
>the thread is getting long
>i have to wrap this up
>i am sitting at the breakfast bar
>mom, steve, and i are having tea
>the sun is starting to come up
>the kitchen still has flour everywhere
>my thumb is still slightly breaded
>i think it might be permanent
>i am ok with that
>steve tells me about my dad
>he says dad was a good tendie
>the best tendie
>he says dad would be proud of me
>for choosing brittany over the box
>for choosing minecraft over promotion
>for choosing a small life over a warm one
>mom makes toast
>mom toast is normal toast
>mom is not a tendie cultist all the time
>she is a tendie cultist on weekends and ritual holidays
>the rest of the time she is just mom
>she still wants me to get a real job
>this has not changed
>some things never change anons
>steve tells me he will drive me to the cluck hut next week so i can return the "today's tendie" receipt properly
>the one that expanded into a shroud in the backyard
>they are going to iron it
>dry it out
>file it away
>receipts like that get archived
>in an underground vault
>beneath a cluck hut in kansas
>i don't know why i know this
>i just know
>i drink my tea
>the tea is still perfect
>i look out the window
>the sun is coming up
>the rain has stopped
>somewhere, very far away, i hear a fryer sizzle
>i smile
>i am home
>somewhere, very far away, i hear a fryer sizzle
>i smile
>i am home
THAT IS AN ENDING. THAT IS A REAL ENDING. op i want to shake your hand. your one breaded hand.
this is the best thing i have ever read. i am printing it out and putting it on my fridge. i am printing it out and mailing it to my grandma. i am printing it out and burying one copy in the backyard for future archaeologists to find.
op please update us after the minecraft wedding. brittany needs to know. brittany needs to know you chose her over godhood. she needs to know she is more important than a crown made of edible gold.
i came to this board to shitpost and instead i got a father-son reconciliation arc, a stepdad redemption arc, a cosmic horror arc, and a minecraft love story. in 90 minutes. with only two typos.
i have studied tendies for fifteen years. i have read every leaked cluck hut internal memo. i have interviewed seven defectors. i thought i knew everything. i did not. op has shown me the face of god and the face of god is breaded. thank you op. i can finally retire.
op if you bring the receipt back i will personally make sure it is handled correctly. i will work the 3am shift that day. no questions asked. it is the least i can do. also, congrats on the wedding.
>>847295729
thanks greg. i'm sorry i said we would circle back to you in an accusatory way. you are one of the good ones.
>>847295711
tendieknight you kept the faith. you warned us. i owe you everything.
>>847295678
i will tell brittany. i'll post her reaction in a new thread.
>ok anons
>i have to go
>mom is making eggs
>she says the eggs are normal
>she says the eggs are NOT tendie eggs
>i believe her
>i have to believe her
>thank you for riding this out with me
>thank you for telling me to eat the tendie
>thank you for telling me NOT to eat the tendie
>thank you for telling me to un-bread my mother with flour
>which in hindsight was a bad call but i appreciate the enthusiasm
>thank you for being here at 5am when i had nobody else to tell
>if any of you are ever in the area and want to grab a tendie meal
>hit me up
>i will be at the cluck hut next week
>steve will be driving
>i will be wearing a belt
>a real belt
>my dad would have wanted it that way
>op out
op i will remember you. even when i am old and gray and the algorithms have replaced all human joy. i will remember the tendie knight. i will remember steve. i will remember brittany who does not yet know she is marrying a hero.
>steve will be driving
>i will be wearing a belt
>a real belt
>my dad would have wanted it that way
in my entire life i have never once cried at a greentext. today is the day. op did it. op made a hardened anon cry about a chicken tender. we won.