Poor Little Loli
Though I don’t watch anime or read manga anymore, I still consider myself an otaku because I draw in a slightly anime style, still perk up whenever I hear or see “Japan” or “Japanese” and am aspiring to become a cartoon porn (hentai) artist (don’t judge please). I knew this little girl, very cute, to be called Loli. She was just that, a cute little girl who seemed much younger than she was and was generally adorable. Well, Loli had a serious problem.
She looked Asian.
Though she was white, her mother was a very tall, thin, pretty woman with wavy red hair and a gentle disposition and her father was also tall, white, and thin with dark brown hair, she somehow looked Asian (When I say “Asian” I am referring to eastern Asian races, such as Japanese or Chinese or Korean). She had very thin eyelashes, board-straight ebony hair, and dark brown eyes coupled with a round face and tiny perfect nose. Loli was sweet and quiet like her mum and very shy.
I was babysitting dear, sweet Loli and she was being a perfect angel when her mum called and told me to pick up something for her at the store, and she would pay me back. I trusted this woman and took Loli to the grocery store where we ran into, you guessed it, a group of weebs. There were three of them, a rather stout teenage boy wearing only a cheap-looking Akatsuki robe, an admittedly cute short girl with curly dyed-back hair, and a hambeast (no good weebstory is complete without) who had short greasy black hair, messy creased black eyeliner, and terribly greasy skin marred with acne and freckles, which hinted that she was naturally a ginger. We’ll call them, respectively N, E, and G (hah “neg”). Well E saw Loli first, and said “Aww, kawaii-desu!”, but didn’t really do much else. N never said anything, but G lost her mind. She attacked the poor girl and squealed barely audible things like “Kawaii-desu” and “loli” and, yup, “Asian”. Well I shooed her off and said verbatim “No, she’s not actually Asian, but a lot of people make the mistake.” Loli just cowered behind me, clutching my shirt.
G didn’t like this.
She shoved me, causing me to fall into a rack of chip bags and Loli to topple to the floor of the aisle, and shouted shit like “jealous”, “baka-yarou (sp?)” and more Japanese curses/insults I won’t go into. She grabbed Loli by the hand, jerked her up, and said to me as she ran down the aisle, dragging the girl, “Loli-chan” She actually said “loli” not the girl’s name. “Wants to come with me.” I freaked out because holy shit that’s not my kid and did my charge just get kidnapped?! I ran after the weebs but lost them in the aisle. I grabbed the nearest clerk told them the deal, and the manager had all the doors covered for me so G couldn’t leave. Her friends N and E (who was notably wearing Karkat horns that looked pretty good) were apologizing profusely and trying to help us find them. I was crying because I was terrified for the girl and the manager, some college-looking guy, had to calm me down.
Eventually we caught them in the bathroom, G was attempting to get Loli to put on some cat ears and pose for her to take pictures. Loli was crying and trying to escape when we found her. She was okay, but I think from now on she’ll have a fear of all weebs, rightfully so.
Her mum wasn’t mad, as Loli was okay, but I promptly quit babysitting her, as I was too guilty that I let that happen to dear, sweet, poor little Loli.
Moral: There isn’t one, other than WEEBS ARE CRAZY.
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