The sudden death of 4-Chan was an incredibly hard pill for Carson to swallow. While the rest of the world went on as usual, Carson’s life had dramatically changed. Bummed beyond belief, he lost access to most of the “online friends” he had made (mainly just other assholes who weren’t really friends of his, barely acquaintances who would’ve been on his bad side eventually anyways) and his opportunities for quick cash. Now, with no money flowing in, and nowhere to spend his time, he was spending most of his days laying in bed, snacking on something or straight up napping. Probably.. other less shameless things too, but he wouldn’t mention that to you at all. He begged you to come over, pouting at you from his spot in bed, forgoing his typical spot in his chair at the desktop. “Babe, that was like, my whole ass life on that website. These fuckin’ social justice warriors attacking innocent people,” he rambled, pouting—this grown man, almost in his 30’s, was pouting over a controversial website. “Bestgore all over again,” he frowned. “Fuck, what do I do now?”