History Tropers / Miru

It's men like these that remind me what a twisted, mangled, wretched beast the underbelly of society is. This man was sick; sick as a man who just had three shots of tequila on a roller coaster. The world at large seemed to pass him by undisturbed; the only thing that seemed to stir him was a walking bat in figure- hugging spandex. When I walked into the house, I knew immediately it was the one I was looking for, because of the 20+ Rouge dolls that were sitting on his sofa. As I looked around, I became more and more sure it was his, until I found the room where he was, playing SonicAndTheSecretRings and trying to find Big. The only thing that surprised me when I entered was the stench of Kool-Aid, and the fact that the windows didn't have any glass in them. walked into the disheveled apartement, and I was met with a horrifying sight: Rouge dolls everywhere. Decked out in stripper gear, winter coats, chain mail, and fishnets: some wearing them all at the same time. Here's the poor schmuck that the chief has been telling me about. His squalid apartment was covered from head-to-toe in Sonic paraphernalia, all with one image: a slutty-looking bat with breasts larger than her head. There's scribbles of beheadwd or flayed silver hedgehogs and Tasmanian tigers on the ceiling, with shredded copies of Sonic Colors in the trash can, for some undiscernable reason. The whole place was plastered in dirt and grime, with faded red wallpaper that was already peeling off the walls, and I swear I may have even seen some dead animals. But most disgusting of all was the man himself. He wore a Rouge t-shirt, with visible grease stains and tattered seams, and had black hair that he cut himself. His eyes were black, and to top it all off, he was rather obese. So obese, the chair he sat in, normal-sized to people like me, was tiny in comparison. I wish I could unsee everything I saw in there.

It's men like these that remind me what a twisted, mangled, wretched beast the underbelly of society is. This man was sick; sick as a man who just had three shots of tequila on a roller coaster. The world at large seemed to pass him by undisturbed; the only thing that seemed to stir him was a walking bat in figure- hugging spandex. When I walked into the house, I knew immediately it was the one I was looking for, because of the 20+ Rouge dolls that were sitting on his sofa. As I looked around, I became more and more sure it was his, until I found the room where he was, playing SonicAndTheSecretRings and trying to find Big. The only thing that surprised me when I entered was the stench of Kool-Aid, and the fact that the windows didn't have any glass in them. Here's the poor schmuck that the chief has been telling me about. His squalid apartment was covered from head-to-toe in Sonic paraphernalia, all with one image: a slutty-looking bat with breasts larger than her head. There's scribbles of beheadwd or flayed silver hedgehogs and Tasmanian tigers on the ceiling, with shredded copies of Sonic Colors in the trash can, for some undiscernable reason. The whole place was plastered in dirt and grime, with faded red wallpaper that was already peeling off the walls, and I swear I may have even seen some dead animals. But most disgusting of all was the man himself. He wore a Rouge t-shirt, with visible grease stains and tattered seams, and had black hair that he cut himself. His eyes were black, and to top it all off, he was rather obese. So obese, the chair he sat in, normal-sized to people like me, was tiny in comparison. I wish I could unsee everything I saw in there.

It's men like these that remind me what a twisted, mangled, wretched beast the underbelly of society is. This man was sick; sick as a man who just had three shots of tequila on a roller coaster. The world at large seemed to pass him by undisturbed; the only thing that seemed to stir him was a walking bat in figure- hugging spandex. When I walked into the house, I knew immediately it was the one I was looking for, because of the 20+ Rouge dolls that were sitting on his sofa. As I looked around, I became more and more sure it was his, until I found the room where he was, playing SonicAndTheSecretRings and trying to find Big. The only thing that surprised me when I entered was the stench of Kool-Aid, and the fact that the windows didn't have any glass in them. Here's the poor schmuck that the chief has been telling me about. His squalid apartment was covered from head-to-toe in Sonic paraphernalia, all with one image: a slutty-looking bat with breasts larger than her head. There's scribbles of beheadwd or flayed silver hedgehogs and Tasmanian tigers on the ceiling, with shredded copies of Sonic Colors in the trash can, for some undiscernable reason. The whole place was plastered in dirt and grime, with faded red wallpaper that was already peeling off the walls, and I swear I may have even seen some dead animals. But most disgusting of all was the man himself. He wore a Rouge t-shirt, with visible grease stains and tattered seams, and had matted brown hair that looks like it wasn't cut in months. His eyes were red, and to top it all off, he was morbidly obese. So obese, the chair he sat in, normal-sized to people like me, was tiny in comparison. I wish I could unsee everything I saw in there.

It's men like these that remind me what a twisted, mangled, wretched beast the underbelly of society is. This man was sick; sick as a man who just had three shots of tequila on a roller coaster. The world at large seemed to pass him by undisturbed; the only thing that seemed to stir him was a walking bat in figure- hugging spandex. When I walked into the house, I knew immediately it was the one I was looking for, because of the 20+ Rouge dolls that were sitting on his sofa. As I looked around, I became more and more sure it was his, until I found the room where he was, playing Sonic Adventure 2. The only thing that surprised me when I entered was the stench of Kool-Aid, and the fact that the windows didn't have any glass in them.

It's men like these that remind me what a twisted, mangled, wretched beast the underbelly of society is. This man was sick; sick as a man who just had three shots of tequila on a roller coaster. The world at large seemed to pass him by undisturbed; the only thing that seemed to stir him was a walking bat in figure- hugging spandex.

Characters who crossed the MoralEventHorizon in my opinion

Miru actually [[NamesTheSame can refer to two diffrent tropers]].

Definition One:

Definition Two:
This troper is a collector of {{Transformers}}. He loves Sonic, and wants to give Rouge a hug after MarioAndSonicAtTheOlympicGames. He's also into SpongeBob and GWAR.


LEAST FAVORITE SONIC CHARACTERS
# Merlina. She's so dumb and annoying.
# Silver. You know why.
# Omochao. Stop talking about the D-Pad!
# Wave. Bean is better. If i made my own Sonic game, she would be like Scratch to Storm's Grounder, Fang's AOSTH Robotnik, and Rouge's Sonic.
# Storm. Bark is better
# Yacker's Mom. Oh, great, a mother to a one off character. And she's the demon-monster too.

Californian. 8th Grdaer. {{Lickspittle}}. AndCallHimGeorge.

My theme Song (parody of Still Alive)

Huge WAFFness

It's hard to overstate my obsession.

And so I worry about her.

Even if nobody cares.


But there's no sense crying over every medal

That was a joke. HA HA. She's a bitch.

* Silver The Hedgehog crossed this when he replaced Rouge as playable in Mario And Sonic At The Winter Olympic Games. I used to kid of like the guy, but now I hate him more than most critics.

I'm making a fan-fic
Huge WAFFness

Rouge the Bat
She melts my heart, because she can

For you reading pleasure

Go ahead and mock me

You will be RAEGing while it's still alive

Mortal Kombat for Wii is still alive.
Darker And Edgier is still alive.

# Yacker. He does nothing.

# Wave. Bean is better

This troper is a collector of {{Transformers}}. He loves Sonic, and wants to give Rouge a hug after MarioAndSonicAtTheOlympicGames.

Miru actually can refer to two diffrent tropers.

Californian. 8th Grdaer. {{Lickspittle}}