Deep within the damp, mildewed corners of their childhood bedrooms, the Reddit moderator slithers; a gelatinous, spineless entity whose only sustenance is the fleeting dopamine rush of deleting someone else’s comment. Neither feared nor respected, they exist in a pitiable limbo between insignificance and self-importance, clinging to their unpaid digital throne like a barnacle on the hull of a sinking ship.
Their natural habitat is the mod queue, where they squirm and wriggle, seeking out any hint of fun, dissent, or originality so they may smother it with the cold, lifeless grip of "Rule 3: No Humor Allowed." Like a tapeworm feeding off the content of others, they contribute nothing, yet demand obedience, reveling in their only real power...the ability to silence those more intelligent, funny, and interesting than them.
But outside of their pathetic, glowing prison? Their wives; yes, the few who ever tricked someone into marrying them; are being thoroughly satisfied by their boyfriends while these mods busy themselves mass-deleting threads about why their favorite Marvel movie was mid. A cuckold not just in life but in principle, they enforce their arbitrary, selectively applied "no harassment" rules while watching their spouse make better choices right in front of them.
And what happens when they finally crawl away from the subreddit they pretend to own? Nothing. No legacy. No impact. No skills. Just a sad, shriveled little worm, trampled underfoot by the real world, sobbing as the last vestige of their "power" disappears the moment their Wi-Fi goes out.
