Flowey, you have my number. Ya know what to do with it if you want to talk to me again. As for everyone else, yall don’t care about me a damn ounce, not even a gram. If I’d had been off with another shot and to actually just be quiet and to follow the act that I was on, you’d probably still keep me. But I can’t fit in your fancy mold, so you just throw me out because I can’t change fast enough for you. I’m happier with Flowey, and yall hate him because he likes me as a friend, because he knows that I deserve better.