/bs/ - backstory

What do I say to you, Kurt? How do I put it into words? Billions must die, quite sure of it. No question, theyve deserved it for wat they are, despicable existence on the body of the people, our people, on the soil from which our people come from will be splattered nothing but endless stream of blood of billions that must die

And for wat? For wat must those billions perish? For nothing, nothing at all, for their own being they must be named a ballast, a bother, a wart on the pristine skin of the body that is the people. Since the moment they’ve been born, since this moment, their inutility has been proven and their current continuation of being among people as if they are of the kind is only a matter of the people’s kindness. Too kind they are to the bother that they must endure, too patient they are towards the weight they must carry on their shoulders

To exonerate them from this pointless struggle, let the people’s hands be at rest more, with their feet more relaxed, billions must be mobilized into armies, arrays of ineffectual material that at once recognized own uselessness and in a last ditch attempt to save face they must be driven to extinction. To their own death that they’ve themselves had choosen, they’ll fulfil their duty, transforming themselves from rabble to fuel from which the fire of the people’s passion to live be sustained

They will become employed, previously unemployed. Serving, previously unserving. Useful, previously useless. That’s all to it, scourges of the earth who by their own being couldn’t work and benefit the people will now be made into wheels of the carriage of the people’s cargo wagon of abundance. Grotesquely malformed bodies of them, previously used as props for horror stories, now be put into work as the leather material in the interior of the people’s wagon. Half witted idiots of all stripes, morons and mentally disabled, will serve as the horses of this carriage of the people, for that their intelligence is so low all they hope to be is the diligent slave to the order of the people

And in this world our carriage will travel from village to city, far and wide, to faraway lands and back. Parading itself as it is as the naked treasure, the flesh of the people, with its insides out. Everyone will see, without a doubt, the people’s plentitude, their lump mass of pure, luxurious, meat