Once upon a time, I Wasd was an unconfident skin creator who was trying to get back into skin creating without knowing much the first skin was called solar system remake and the almighty manage passwords lord of the skins and also a very nitpicky person towards skins said he hated me and as a young ping in the skin creating world I was confuddled why was manage so angry was it Pluto not on there? I quickly hopped onto general chat and pleaded slapdabass a godly skin creator who was wizened with knowledge about what to do concerning pleasing manage and it wasn’t long after he looked at my skin and said that the sizes were wrong. I quickly hopped onto Safari typing as fast as I could. Clickity Clackity Clack there it was the background remover but alas it was too late… there was knocking at the door. Unbeknownst to me this would become a long and treacherous journey full of betrayal and sacrifice and as I rolled down the stairs (as compasses do) I slowly opened the door to find…. (PART TWO). a man dressed in a large tan trench coat with comically large glasses could only mean one thing… it was the tax man! I quickly shut the door and was headed for upstairs knowing full well that I had not paid my taxes for months now before this had worked multiple times to get rid of those pesky individuals but this time? No first there was more knocking which was then followed by banging until the door finally gave up and went down I realised I had to run and fast. Quickly I looked around for a hiding place before concluding that I could hide in the cupboard I rushed to it as I heard him simultaneously sprint up the stairs but before he could manage to see me I closed the door.
He came in panting covered in sweat and with terror in his eyes we locked eyes his eyes widened with desperation and pleaded with me to help but I was confused why was he scared I was the criminal here I was almost tempted to step out and ask him what was wrong but before these questions could be answered two gunshots rung out for what seemed like miles making the tax man collapsed to the floor with pools of blood slowly forming. As I stood in dismay I heard feet collide with the wood floor revealing a man with black shoes which gleamed in the setting light and a black suit that was as dark as the void that only left his dark smile which was covered in horrible glee as he surveyed his horrid work but before he left he saw me making my heart wrench with fear but he didn’t raise his gun for he smirked and gave me a note through the gap of the cupboard which read I’ll be back but next time not just for you and as you can imagine after all this nonsense I was terribly confused but when I raised my head to ask a question he was gone. I quickly pulled out my phone to tell people what happened but to my dismay, I was signed out and couldn’t sign in nor create an account meaning that I could only watch as they made remarks thinking about how manage had got to me and I would never be seen again but then a person with the name Wasd had started chatting to them. My brain was once again confuddled but as I read the message it only got stranger.
The grammar is a tad bit better now but I would still like you to point out where I got it wrong (I am not good at English)