I recently woke up in a haze, drenched in sweat. I was surrounded by Internet nerds and cretins of various sizes and trolling abilities. A strainer stared down at me with cold, dead metal eyes. I tried to scream, but was unable. I tried to move my arms, but they were locked in pixelated handcuffs. I felt anxious and unsteady, unwilling to accept the reality that I was, indeed, trapped in a dungeon of hypertext transfer protocol.

Videos of gaseous cats and Moonies spinning around on escalators danced above my head. They flashed away, only to be replaced by more videos of Simpsons clips and Rebecca Black parodies or whatever else was hip with geeks at the moment. I was haunted by threads of incoherent banter and hyperbolic ad hominem arguments. There was no end to the madness.

Suddenly, a beam of light shone across my face and without warning all of the monsters that decended upon me were vaporized. I cast my eyes around the room, but did not see my savior. I was able to free myself from the shackles and I stood, wobbly but craving to escape. Just then, a figure stepped into the doorway. I was ready to run toward it when it said:

"My name is Dag. Suck my balls. LOLcatz!!1"

I knew the end had come. I grabbed a nearby gun and placed it against my head. I pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. I pulled once more, but nothing happened. I tried a third time and the gun oozed sperm out of the end, then giggled and said:

"Blankfist FTW!!!1"

I screamed and threw it to the ground. It shattered into a thousand pieces, each one a slightly smaller version of the original gun. They laughed in unison:

"You cannot destroy that which was never created! We are everlasting! Have you seen Mateo? WTFBBQ?!"

I was losing grip on reality. Nothing made sense. Everything was lost. Hope was gone. Dreams were crushed. And at my wit's end a whimpering voice cried out from the dark corner. It cried:

"tl;dr"