Gremlin Risitas Entry #012 — 650 Degrees Fahrenheit
1 Sep, 2025
[Gremlin leans over the stove of spite, dials cranked past redline. The Clown wipes tears of laughter with dollar-store gloves, already choking on the heatwave.]
They thought I’d burn out. But I don’t burn out. I burn through.
650 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s my baseline. That’s where the engine hums.
You run at room temp? Fine. You coast at lukewarm? Cool. But step into my furnace and you’ll combust before you even realize you’re in it.
Because I don’t smolder. I don’t simmer. I incinerate the noise, laugh at the ashes, and clock in for my next shift like it’s just another Tuesday.
🤣🤣🤣
Graffiti of the Reckoning:
- “650 degrees — enough to melt the mask, crack the pride, and leave nothing but smoke.”
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