Around two years ago, I read a book on this site called The W2RLD, written by The_Masked_Eidolon.

If I had never been introduced to that book, I may have never written Protocol Tron.

When I wrote this book, I never thought it'd reach this point. It was supposed to be a dumb comedy with stupid edgy jokes and a non-existing plot.

But for some reason, I decided to keep on writing.

I wrote chapter 1 in my Notes app on my phone while sitting in the back of a car parked outside a grocery store. I had nothing except for my aunt and a phone to write books in.

Over the course of two years, I've written a book that's helped me overcome some of the darkest moments of my life.

Today, some things have changed. Through it all, I've lost many things such as a home, a car, my aunt...

But I've gained some things in my life, and I have a finished book I'm proud to have written.

I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing it. If just one of my jokes made you laugh, then I'll consider that a job well done.

Thanks for sticking to the end.

I highly recommend reading The W2RLD for inspiring this book.

Anyways, that's about it.

I guess it's only fair I leave you guys with one last joke.

Uhh...

Hmm...

Now that I have to think of a joke on the spot, it's kinda hard. I've been sitting here for twenty minutes now.

Ah, I got it.

How about one of those scenes where the credits of a movie are flashing, and the funny side character is there making a fool of himself while more names are displayed?

Director Cuntfield is holding a jar of vegemite. He spreads it over some toast and takes a bite. But just as he's enjoying his meal, a group of emu birds charge into him. He gets overrun but manages to stand his ground.

Then, a heavy gust of wind blew a load of toxic spiders on his face. As he screamed, some giant human-sized spiders crawled by him. He got the mini ones off his face.

Some squirrel gliders flew by and one of them managed to steal his vegemite. He kindly spoke to them in the friendliest way possible according to Aussie standards by repeatedly calling them cunts 18 times.

Then some snakes slithered past and coiled around his legs to make him trip.

Afterwards, a fucking tsunami appeared and completely flooded literally everything.

A crocodile chomped him.

A shark chomped him.

A jellyfish stung him.

Somehow, he survived but then the gravity stopped working and he fell out of the water upwards into the sky. The clouds above him suddenly burst into flames and he got caught on fire. But then gravity worked again and he landed on the ground in a thud.

Then a kangaroo stomped on him.

Then some koalas swung by him, but one of them accidentally fell and landed on his head.

Then a dingo dog bit him.

Finally, Director Cuntfield slowly stood back up and rubbed his head. He pulled out a bottle of beer from his jacket and chugged it before stumbling away.

But then he slipped on the piece of vegemite toast he dropped earlier and fell. He then exploded for no reason.

Australia is quite dangerous.

Be safe folks.

And once more, thanks for reading.

I'll see you all elsewhere.

Cheers.