Title: SSSSSSNACKS Author: Anonymous Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/wRBBbRKC First Edit: Monday 17th of August 2015 05:50:05 PM CDT Last Edit: Monday 17th of August 2015 05:50:05 PM CDT Weather hadn’t been cooperating with her plans lately. By all logic, it should be boiling outside. Yet a cold wind swept through 4chan city, slinking between alleys and into dilapidated buildings like a shadow, hushed and frigid. Snacks tore open the blinds. The sky was a steel gray. From her vantage she could see singular columns of smoke rising between buildings, some from the upper floors of the few skyscrapers that hadn’t bent in on themselves and toppled. Central heating was a luxury only herself and Moot knew of. Trash and scraps of wood collected from the adjacent forest kept the denizens of 4chan city warm. It shouldn’t have been this cold. Summer was a few days off, but here it was. A bad omen, she was sure.   “Mrs. Snacks?” A familiar voice had snuck up behind her.   “What is it?” Snacks put on a weak smile and turned around. Anonymous towered above her, his figure and voice emanating from her unlit foyer. On his chest he bore a purple clover, and on his back hung a comically large hammer adorned with the letters ‘b&’. A moderator since before the crash, he was the personal bodyguard of W.T. Snacks, and the go-between for the other mods and Janitors. Her lifeline to the city.   “Moot has denied your audience for today.”   She slumped against the wall and let her body slide lazily onto the hardwood floors of her office. “What does that bastard have to do today that’s more important than this sudden border violation?”   “I’m sure he’s very busy ma’m with just that and more. Anonymous has been unusually restless as of late. He’s probably serving bans or hopefully…appointing new janitors to the team.”   Snacks brought her legs against her chest. “I know. I’ve felt it too. Everyone’s nervous because they think we’re at war again. And that’s what I’m trying to figure out. I-”   “Ma’m?” The moderator took a step forward, into the light, hand outstretched. “Are you alright?”   “-I haven’t slept in a few days, since before this all started. /b/tards told us that they had forces right on the borders. I’m just tired is all.” She managed another smile. “You’re a good moderator, Anon. You do a fine job keeping the city safe.”   “Well, I don’t know about that…” The moderator scratched the back of his head. “But I do what I can. Someone has to.”     “Nobody’s busted down my door yet asking for help. I’ll give you the credit for that.”   “Accepted.”   Snacks stood up, dusting herself off. “What I still can’t figure out,” she said, walking over to her desk, “Is why the furries would willingly violate our treaty, and then just not go any further?” Snacks hunched over her map again, staring intently at the border between 4chan and FurAffinity. “It’s not right. We’ve known for awhile they’ve had a sizeable force at the borders. They break treaty before US, and then don’t commit to an attack?”   “Perhaps a tactic to draw us out, Ma’m?” The Moderator offered.   “Could very well be. I’ve halted all outgoing raids. The few trucks that’ve come back in from yesterday are on orders not to head out until I give the go ahead.”   “And you think they’ll listen to orders? What about the stragglers?”   “Let the stragglers find their way back, or not at all. At this point I’m going to assume they’re in far too deep for any /b/tards to reliably reach them and relay a message. Communications are still shoddy at best, and the whole thing has gone to shit. As for the trucks, how about you and I head down there and ‘persuade’ them to sit tight?”   Snacks had kept her old Ban Hammer, a token of her youth spent slaying shitposters, now a dusty memento. It’s once gleaming might had become a sodden gray artifact that hung haphazardly above the doorway to her office. Making use of a few chairs, Snacks was able to snatch the weapon down, just before falling flat on her ass, still holding the lengthy shaft of the hammer close to her.   She hefted the beast with ease, her hands immediately finding familiar the smooth metal shaft, or the weighty head of the hammer. She took a few practice swings, planting her feet and bringing her body around in a lethal arc. A smile crept across her face, and she felt suddenly younger, color returned to her pale cheeks.   “If Anonymous sees you outside of this house, they’ll think things are as bad as they seem.” The Moderator sighed. “We shouldn’t risk it.”   “Are things as bad as they seem?” Snacks took a few more practice swings for good measure.   “We’ve had roughly 2 permabans per day. Moot is working his ass off sorting these people. We need them to think things are under control, even if they aren’t.”   “And what better way to do that then to smash a few heads in? Been awhile since I’ve swatted a shitposter with this guy.” Snacks said as she made for the door, her ban hammer resting on her shoulders. The Moderator quickly fell in behind her, nervously pulling at his collar.   “Highest area of shit-posting, Mod-kun?”   “Where do you think, ma’m?”   “Right…” Snacks muttered under her breath. For the first time in years, she pulled open the iron knockers of her door.   “Mod-Kun, go on ahead. I want you to make contact with the Janitors, as many as you can find. Then bring them to town square. I’ve got a message for you to deliver.”   “What’s the message, ma’m?”   “Tell them ‘Snacks is back’.”