I’m afraid of Stacy’s

Last time I was at social tennis, the receptionist smiled at me. She was drop-dead gorgeous. She is what the incels call a Stacy.

So I am avoiding social tennis tonight, because she smiled at a sub-five like myself. The normal behaviour of Stacy’s towards me is disgust and contempt. But her smile violates the laws of physics! I have to stay home and recover.

She is tall, and a bit young for me, too. Plus I’m not a Chad. I’m a sub-five. I’m also worried I may break wind on the tennis court, as I had a Katsudon for dinner.

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