Your name is TREDEC OPHIUC and you are a TROLL. You are SEVEN SWEEPS OLD and frequently enjoy both SICKNASTY SPORTING EVENTS and FLAGRANT DISREGARD FOR SAFETY. You are, unfortunately, TERRIBLY INEPT at all things ATHLETIC. It's almost enough to make you feel BAD for yourself. But then your RELENTLESS OPTIMISM overrides any such compulsions. It also helps that you have AMAZING PSIONIC POWERS. But it's mostly the optimism. Your blood is a fetching shade of NONE OF ANYONE'S BUSINESS thank you very much. Also, you are a MUTANT. Your body is remarkably TINY, small enough to rest comfortably in the confines of a normal Troll's crushing fist. Despite your size, you are possessed of truly ABSURD levels of DURABILITY.
13lessing or curse, you try your GOSH-DARNDEST to stay positive.
Normally, a freak such as yourself would be CULLED, however, the IMPERIAL DRONES seem to not notice you. Or perhaps to them you seem to be some kind of LUSUS. Either way, you've managed to be a total leech, contributing nothing yet suckling on the teat of Troll society for your entire life. So CONGRATULATIONS on that, I suppose.
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