Hey chat, it’s ya boy Maddox back today with another talisman review and, man, oh man, do we have a doozy this time: an Amulet of Omniscience—that’s right; I snagged this puppy on pre-sale—and look, before we get started, I wanna address the haters in the comments: y’all are so, so pressed about me taking a leak in the Tomb of Raznar, which is weird because that was like three months ago, and also I apologized, and also it was totally a prank; I’m sick of y’all trying to cancel me, for real like, do you even get how dumb you look; I’ve got a Torg-forged Pentacle of Social Protection, so I’m uncancelable, biyy-atch—uh, anyway yeah, let’s unbox this amulet—which, yup, for those of you wondering, cost like a hundred bucks to ship from Hell; it blows; y’all might call me racist for this, but demons looove to nickel and dime, which I’m allowed to say because I dated a demon chick—Lydia, if you’re watching this, shout out—and she was very uncool about footing the bill on some dates—even though ya boy was cash-strapped back then, like, I’d been fired from Burger King for some bullshit—shout-out and fuck you to my manager, Todd—and this channel hadn’t blown up yet, so yeah, no cashy-cash for Pappi Maddox, and Lydia, well, she called herself a feminist but, like so many females—demonic females, especially—she dropped that “equal rights” stuff once the roles were reversed; she said I was—what were her words?—“becoming the wrong kind of man.” Whatever that means.
Hah, sorry. Guess I zoned out there for a sec!
Anyway, the Amulet of Omniscience is some premo-primo soul projection stuff; it’s supposed to—here, let me read the thingy on the box—“diffuse the consciousness of the wearer across fate-entwined corpuses”—which sounds pretty fucking sick, right, and lookit here, the chain is super dope—real gold—let’s pop it on and oh, oh, ahhh, oh, fuck, holy fucking Thoth, oh gods, there, is, so, much, fuck, fuck all of you, all of you, stop, stop thinking, stop watching, log off, please, please; I can hear all your thoughts, your lives; Andrew from Missoula, I can see you watching from your room and, oh gods, you’re just a kid; your mom is in the kitchen; earlier today, you called her bitch and when she asked where you heard that word and my face blipped through your head and she’s crying now, Andrew; she’s scared you’ll hear her sobs, fuck, fuck so many—Lydia I feel you too out there too; you don’t watch my streams because they make you sad you never really loved me but you came close that time I left work just to drive you from the bus stop it was raining I said I didn’t want you to get sick but then Burger King sacked me you felt guilty but also, you think, it wasn’t your fault; didn’t I know you can’t leave work for nothing I was such a dumb human boy and it sort of turned you on but, oh, did it get tiring—you’ve thought this before, Lydia, but not right now; you don’t think of me much these days but I think of you all the time I talk about you on stream I’m doing it right now the omniscience is less overwhelming when I focus on one soul and yours is the one that knows mine best—how sad is that?
