The story

It's was a day, a day it was. Bob had woken up, rubbing his darkened eyes as they are exposed to the light, of day. He regretted his decision to stay up, as long as he did, watching hours upon hours of shitpost. Always saying "Eh I'll go to sleep in 5 minutes." he never did. Starting the day Bob crank his rusty gears for legs, constantly yawning. Yimer Yamer Bob does generic morning things, brushing his teeth with the blender, washing his agar like face, and cleaning himself for once. Bob was a simple man but he felt something wrong, a disturbance like someone was behind him. His guts rumbling saying, "He's here! He's here!". Well looks like your running out of time, better get in there and do something about it.