The Caturday Revival
On Friday December 14, 2007, /b/ exploded with fail as a result of all the newfags and fail that had encompassed it as a result of faggot's homosexuality. /b/-tards everywhere shit their pants in desperation as 4chan went off the interbutts forever. The faggots responsible, http://ididitforthelulz.com, declared victory over the legion of Anonymous. Epic fail ensued. The imageboards were replaced with a single php board. As the aspies of /b/ fled to the land of legend and other assorted *chans the prophets examined the ancient scripture for advice. After careful examination most of the ancients quickly became an heroes until only Ceiling Cat remained. He raced from board to board spamming a very clear message...
The holy scripture's prophecy had almost been fulfilled.
It reads...As Longcat and Tacgnol prepare their armies to march from the ends of the Earth, and people everywhere buy dogs and put up curtains they will meet on the chosen battleground of Thermopylae. As all fades into black they will meet on high noon of the second lost Caturday.
The end of the world was near. Old memes were spewed at an astronomical rate. Unfunny newfags and TL;DR copypasta ruled all posting. Furfags and Tartlets ran free of fursecution. Trolls were alone and failing at unheard of rates. Pool's were closed due to incurable AIDS.
And the Fatherchan had died...again.
Caturday was a mere 24 hours away. And the world seemed doomed to wail in an ocean of piss.
This is why we can't have nice things.
Some individuals had a radical idea that not even doom music could rationalize...To kill all cats. And so it would begin. Large gas chambers and concentration camps were erected. The Jews who were counting their gold ran in terror. Kittens were taken, fucked, and left to die. God Hates Fags rallied the forces and continued to slay any cat who so much licked itself trying to get the blood out. And as the cat genocide continued all hope seemed lost.
High noon was fast approaching. /b/-tards were rioting due to the lack of ability to post any fucking cats. And then all hell broke loose. The /b/-tards and cat fuckers collided in the sacred ground of Auschwitz. Each side was determined to kill the other. With Cho and the Finnisher doling out numerous headshots and once again upping their kill ratio, it was a scene of complete and utter chaos.
Chicken Mootle Soup
But then, something completely unexpected happened. Moot stopped sipping his soup and retrieved the almighty banhammer that he had sworn off forever. From the great exodus of yesteryear it came, and as the irresistible force of faggotry tried to corrupt Moot further he resisted. He returned from Mootxico wielding the awesome power.
At first the going was tough. XyriX gathered his forces in the east for an all out orgy towards becoming the greatest an heroes in history. The attack on 4chan's DNS had worked perfectly. There were guards surrounding every crevice. There was no way in. One does not simply walk into 4chan.
Moot seemed trapped and fell into despair. He had lost his iPod in a raid of orcs on the first night out. He had scraped his knee and hadn't eaten anything but a clear white liquid in days. He was never hardcore enough to pwn the guards. So he did what all bitches did, and he cried for his mom. Little did he know that, that singular act would lead to his solution. His years of experience gave him the answer like a river of hot torrid lava exploding from a singular point. As with every gay entity there is a single weak spot. And that's when he decided that he would have to rape his way in.
As he approached the Great Ass of Mordor, Mootle had a difficult time with his decision. He was, of course a virgin, and pleasing the great ass of Mordor is a difficult and strenuous task. He finally thought of his mom and went to town. The Great Ass was unsatisfied with his meager member and proceeded to take him whole. And as he passed through he finally became aware of what all /b/ knows...You can never have enough pooper.
He now proceeded upward into the fires of Mount Fail and straight into the clutches of the skiddies. He was continually jerked around by his server's administration. And in the end even the 4chan status blog fell. All hope seemed lost.
But, in the final minutes before high noon in an unprecedented move to aide Mootle in his quest, the 4chan party V& bore his burden. Together they would bond to rid the internet of the faggots forever, giving them an express trip on an IRL Banhammer, and throwing them right into the loving arms of Bubba. 4chan had only been offline for less than two full days.
The Caturday Revival
In the end many lives were claimed. The furries and gaiafags protecting the kittens had all been slaughtered. The sick fucks and racists, who had attacked, had been thoroughly beaten into submission. The skiddies got V&. Moot finally got more of his delicious soup. The great cleansing of /b/ had finally come to pass, and the Eternal September that had enveloped /b/ finally ended.
The great day of reawakening would therefore be known as The Caturday Revival. And thus, the denizens of /b/ rejoiced as Niggertits was safe for another Caturday.
- Brb, compromised
- The Caturday Nap
- Brb, soup
- HACKERS ON STEROIDS
- Chanocalypse Naow
The FBI steps up.
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