The Discord lit up with Gigi's familiar thunder: 🏆 A-R-E-N-A ❗ SAY IT WITH ME!!! 🏆 A-R-E-N-A ❗ ONE MO' TIME!!! 🏆 A-R-E-N-A ❗ Do your Arena 💜
The kingdom stirred. Lords and ladies sighed, groaned, and shuffled toward their buttons.
But then — Fluffy made the mistake. He dropped a gif: "You're not my dad!" The chat froze. LordOfTheDance, ever the instigator, fired back: "No, but she's your mom's." The room exploded in laughter. And Gigi, unshaken, unleashed the full sermon: "I ain't ya momma, or ya dada. I'm your Gigi. This ain't about me being a father or mother figure — this is about ARENA. Now take your ass back in that arena, and fight like it's the last goddamn day of your FUCKIN LIFE!!! …in a good way of course 💜💜💜"
Silence. Respect. Fear. Awe. Bob's eyes widened like saucers. His soul left his body, did a lap around the server, and came back wearing glitter.
Bob turned his gaze on Fluffy. The poor taco warrior had poked the divine thunder. Bob became her disciple, her enforcer, her chaos incarnate.
His emoji barrage: he spammed 🏆 until Fluffy's screen looked like a trophy factory. Role chaos: he renamed Fluffy's Discord role to "Arena Fugitive." Narration meltdown: every time Fluffy typed, Bob screamed in chat: "FLUFFY IS BREATHING. FLUFFY IS THINKING. FLUFFY IS FAILING." Poll of doom: he created a poll with only two options: "Yes" and "Absolutely Yes" to force Fluffy back into Arena.
Fluffy, overwhelmed, finally muttered: "Fine. I'll do Arena." Bob saluted the screen. "Gigi, your will is done. The Arena claims another soul." And Gigi, smiling in her terrifying way, dropped a 💜.
The Discord roared with laughter. Bob whispered reverently: "She's not our mom. She's not our dad. She's our Gigi."