(i cant stop giggling at this im so sorry april fools)

The Skibidi toilet apocalypse.

You had heard little kids talk about “sigma ohio rizzler,” and you had seen the videos online with comments of “skibidi fortnite fanum tax.” You had even heard a few Biografts talking about “kai cenat gyatt edging streak.” You just… never expected the brainrot to go this far. What started as a harmless series on youtube grew into a dangerous species that delved the world deep into chaos, pandemonium and destruction.

Your husband, Banhammer, had disappeared soon after this apocalypse began. You reasoned that he had died fighting the skibidi toilets off, he was strong and loved to fight like that. But it didn’t ease the grief in gnawing at your mind, nor did it help the pain let up from in your heart. You were left to fend for yourself, on your own. While you could’ve searched for your coworker, The Broker, the man was a cunning but weak-willed soul, and he’d probably already fallen victim to the skibidi toilets.

So you stayed a lone wolf, hunting your meat (raiding abandoned stores and houses), toughing out harsh weather (shivering pathetically in any form of shelter you could find), and living off the land (taking residence in an abandoned home). One day, you had gone out to a nearby empty store to get more food for your stash, ears tuned to the distance of the faint “brr skibidi dop dop dop yes yes skibidi dop dip dip dip” approaching…

Wait.

That was Banhammer’s voice.

You couldn’t believe it. They had gotten him? Darting over to the source of the sound, you found him just like any other skibidi toilet: none of his body visible except for his neck and head, his neck unnaturally long and head sticking out of the toilet. Thankfully he seemed to have some of his sentience, because at the sight of you, he stopped and froze, looking up at you. You could have sworn you saw the recognition in his eyes despite his blindfold.

“…S-Skibidi?” He murmured, tears swelling in his eyes under his blindfold.