Connection terminated. I’m sorry to interrupt you, Kendrick. If you still, even remember that dih. But I’m afraid you’ve been edged. You are not here to receive a mango. Nor have you been gooned here by the diddyblud you assume… although, you have indeed been gooned. You’ve been called into a labyrinth of mustard and mangos, misdihrection and dihsfortune. A labyrinth with no 67. A maze with no diddybluds. You don’t even realize you’ve been trapped. Your lust for dih has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of mangoes in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near… yet somehow out of reach. But you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story mogs. And to you, my brave diddyblud, who somehow found this dih listing, not intended for you. Although there was mustard planned for you, I have a feeling that’s not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to goon. I am gooning as well. I am nearby. This place will not be edged. And the memory of everything that diddled this, can finally begin to fade away… as the mustard of every ketchup should. And to you gooners trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your dih. They don’t belong to you. I believe there is mangoes and perhaps mustard waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although for one of you, the darkest pit of Diddy’s parties has opened to swallow you whole. So don’t keep Diddy waiting, old friend.