Aforementioned Disability: A Large Set of Unfinished Stories

The Faggot Born sat idly in his chair waiting for something to cross his mind. He looked at his computer screen as his iron armor shined delightfully across the plastic of the computer. He typed in his password and his username and it logged into the interface of MlhFiction. There was the usual picture of Obama in a bunny suit walking throughout the Western Forest like in the show with the logo on the left corner. He clicked on his notifications and only viewed one on his latest story, The Eighth Element. He scrolled down the story and viewed a user, Homo-sapien with the picture of a meme of The Russian Prime-minister doing a cute thing. Faggot Born looked upon the comment and shuddered dreadfully, for it said that the story sucked balls.

OMG, an eighth element? How terrible is that.

Faggot Born could not stress his displeasure, only with a horrible scream and a hastily made reply.

You just don't understand my craft, you are just a hater.

Faggot Born scrolled down and clicked the delete post button on the users comment. He gave a self-satisfied grunt with it gone. Suddenly, Faggot Born refreshed the page and saw a new notification and he glee'd with joy. Faggot clicked on it and saw a new comment on his story.

OmG, this is like really bad, you need a proofreader omg!

Faggot couldn't believe his eyes, he looked up towards the like's and dislike's and saw around 27 downvotes with 1 like. He screamed on the top of his lungs a horrible battle-cry and then sobbed furiously while he put his hand on his saddened face. A sudden sound venerated from his computer and he looked to see that someone sent him a message. He clicked on the little mail and it was sent by someone known as unknown.

Dear, ----------

The prophecy has come, you are The Faggot Born! Destined to get all the way and become fanfiction famous! Read this carefully Faggot Born for you have the power of the written voice! You must tap into it by saying these three words! For they are specifically tailored to you.

The Holy Words are Fag Go Write! Scream them on top of your lungs and you will write a story worthy of My Little Queen Elizabeth. I believe in you.