Logan Paul Apology Video

Once upon a time, there lived a great and terrible witch.
Those who lived near feared her, because to wrong her was to suffer strange and terrible curses by her hand.
A butcher who sold her off meat found his skin glowed bright yellow thereafter, estranging him from the community and having a horribly destructive impact on his sleep schedule.
The postman, once trampling her flowers on the way to her front door, had his house turned into unrefined oil. Though through the cumulative sale of this oil he was able to retire early, the point still stood.
Little Billy Hodgkins was turned into a frog after throwing a stone through her front window.
This being the Pokemon world, and him a regular frog, everyone was terribly confused.
One day, a travelling zoroark came to this town. It was new to this place, and knew not of the witch and her terrible power. Passing her in the street, it only saw a haggard old woman, bent over, and wearing what, in its opinion, were some of the most hideous collectable sneakers ever brought unto existence.
As everyone knows, zoroarks take the subject of commemorative sportswear very seriously. So to the zoroark, it was duty, as they passed one another, that it should mutter:
"Your Jordans are mid."
In fairness, they weren't very good - the colour choices weren't particularly well thought out, and the soles did not complement her natural posture. But as everyone knows, witches are incredibly egotistical when it comes to footwear.
In response, the witch brought forth a terrible curse upon their kind; that they would be cursed to fall hopelessly in love with and pursue the most dastardly man in all the lands.

Rest assured, it made the 1940's a superbly awkward time.
But now, there are new evils. New villains.
But above them all - the one.
One wonders what acts of wanton cruelty, and sheer, undivided malice such a being would be doing at this moment...


Ghetsis sighed as he drove home, fourty over the speed limit and heaven knows much over the Blood Alcohol limit.
Death Grips was on the radio, and an ice cold Coke in the cup holder. The roof was down, and he tasted the sweet summer air as he tore through mile after mile of scenic, tranquil grassland. His hair flew in the breeze, alongside his gigantic full body cape. It was a good thing he was going into the wind.
Life was good.
He drove a Cadillac El Dorado, the kind they had to stop making because the tail fins brained too many children. There were bricks in the boot, to maximise the carbon emissions of the vehicle.
Ghetsis was driving home that quiet afternoon. He lived in an enormous castle that he'd secretly built two thousand feet beneath an important government building without anyone noticing.
On his Tax File Number, and the Bulbapedia entry, it was "N's Castle".
This was an intentionally effort on Ghetsis' end, and meant that N would pay property taxes on it when he turned 18. Ghetsis thought this was a splendid joke.
How does one build a castle sneakily? To that end, how do you drive a car to a castle two-thousand feet below the surface of the Earth?
Very carefully, that's how.

Ghetsis slunk into the castle, eager to rest a smarting back and knees. He didn't a remember a younger self having to deal with those.
It had been a hard day.
It wasn't easy, stealing small animals from children and plotting to install yourself as a tyrant leader through the manipulation of the publics emotions and compassion, but someone had to do it.
He left his things by the front door, and started to move up the 12 story staircase to his bathroom, to wash out the biblical amounts of product that allowed his hair to defeat gravity. It wasn't healthy, they said, you're inhaling industrial adhesives nearly constantly, they said.
What did they know.
He stopped.
Ghetsis' eye narrowed. His eyepatch did too. Somehow.
He turned around, and traced his good hand against the door frame.
Before he left every morning, he stuck a single hair into the crack of the door, such that it would be dislodged if opened. A man like him, with his kind of enemies, it was wise to take precautions. And it wasn't there.
His eyes darted to the floor. It was almost imperceptible. A tiny scratch in the floorboards.
Shoes didn't make those kind of mark, certainly not his. Claws did.
He wasn't alone.
Slowly, very slowly, he moved to the closest bedroom, and made ready to push the door open.


Two hours later, Ghetsis made his way to the seventh bedroom on the 15th floor of the left wing of the castle. He was sweating by this point, and rethinking the merits of castle ownership.
He didn't bother with stealth, shoving open the door. This would be the last room, he thought, then he'd abandon his paranoia.
He barged in
There, splayed over his bed, lay a woman, naked as the day she was born.
And what a woman she was.
She was round and soft in all the right places and thin in all the others, with skin as smooth and taut as a Greek statue, unmarked by cellulite or distortion. A halo of golden mane surrounded eyes impossibly wide, bright and wet.
Ghetsis stared unblinkingly at the woman.
The woman smirked, showing a display of remarkable flexibility as she stretched upright in a single, fluid cartwheeling movement carefully choreographed to show off everything important
"Hello master~" said the woman, in a tone of voice so sultry that you'd have to use a tilde to describe it.
She giggled. "I'm so, so glad you've come back. I was waiting for us to have some fun together~"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She said, one long-nailed finger coming to a rest just under his chin.
Ghetsis remained completely deadpan. "You got the voice wrong."
He was right.
In sharp contrast to the figure of near impossible feminine beauty before him, her sultry words had been those of a middle aged man. The kind who lived off of cigarettes.

The woman blinked. Literally; she faded out of existence for one short moment.
"Oh. Piss." This voice was probably the one it had wanted to use, a breathy, melodic sort he had no doubt it had copied from distasteful internet pornography.
"Yup."
With a flash of static like a TV changing channels, the woman disappeared. Where she had been, there now was some sort of overgrown woodland creature. Narrow eyes with slits for pupils stared out from a sleek, velvety body, all hard angles and sinew tipped with inky, unbelievably lush fur.
The creature sighed, waving wickedly pointed claws his way. "Well, sor-ry. Do you know how hard it is to keep track of every single illusion you have ever used?" It looked self consciously at him
"God, this is embarrassing. A-am I still doing it ok, the whole seduction thing?"
"Hm" said Ghetsis.
"I'll take that as a yes, then?" She grinned, a gesture which would have appeared far more friendly if she didn't have steak knives for teeth.
"Anyways, do you want to have exceedingly graphic, lewd, excruciatingly descriptive bed-breaking sex with a sentient bipedal fox for the purpose of procreation?"
Ghetsis had not moved for the entirety of the spiel. A thin smile wormed its ways across his lips.
"No."
The zoroark's grin did not falter "Oh, so this is one of those scenarios
"No. This is one of those scenarios where you leave this private domicile before I call the authorities"
"Aren't you wanted for numerous counts of theft, extortion, fraud and terrorism?"
"Oh yeah. I forgot about that."
"Speaking of, you said earlier that you pay property taxes on this illegally built secret castle. How does that work?"
"That was the narrato-"
"You're avoiding the question."
"The Poke-IRS don't give a shit so long as I pay my taxes."
"Huh. Never knew that, because I don't pay taxes. I'm a pokemon."
"Yeah. You don't fuck with the PIRS. Giovanni tried that, and they're still finding bits of him in Lake Superior."
"Riveting. Anyways we're going to have sex now." Was what she would have said, but in her haste to bring them to fruition, the last few words blurred together as she darted towards the man, a hungry look in her eyes.

A fully grown Zoroark, you must understand, is not a creature to be taken lightly. When standing up from their characteristic slouch, their height reaches that of a human - and at an average of 80kg of mostly muscle, they are far, stronger.
A fully grown zoroark is not a creature one takes lightly.
Of course, neither is a fully grown Ghetsis.
Any viewers to the house that night, save for yourself, would be deeply surprised to see a blur of black and red flung across the bedroom at speeds rarely seen outside the aerospace industry.
Ghetsis pulled back his arm from throwing something nearly his size because the Japanese never figured out how to draw really muscular people.
And they called his diet of baby Spheals insane.
It not being his first time, he did not seem especially shocked by what had just happened.
The Zoroark certainly did, even as it landed rather harmlessly against a tastefully embroidered loveseat/sofa, sending it sliding against the wall. Upside down, it looked back at Ghetsis, and licked its lips.
"I can do rough."
Ghetsis growled as he trapped the fox-thing in a headlock, a position it did not seem particularly upset about, and fought its frenzied attempts to align the twos crotches.
"GET." he said "House Flipper's on at eight. I don't have time for this. I also have to find a fucking bouncy castle rental for N's birthday. Do you know how fucking hard it is to find a good price on those?"
The Zoroark raised an eyebrow - or would have, had she any. "Isn't he, like, 17?"
The look he gave her then was nothing short of biblical.
"And? My boy likes his bouncy castles. You got shit to say about that?"
Even she didn't talk back to that.

While this was going on, other things were happening in the house.
See, this was not the first time this had happened. N was testament to that, and so were the child support payments equivalent to the GDP of a small pacific island nation.
Ghetsis was a man who had spent most of his life pursued.
You could very nearly say that he'd gotten comfortable with it.
And when you get comfortable, you get sloppy.
And when you get sloppy, you make mistakes.
And, as everyone who has been pursued by lustful cryptid things capable of human imitation knows, they never travel alone.
His attention focused singularly on the smirking creature before him, Ghetsis couldn't see the slow, painfully silent turn of a hallway door, or something dark and sinewy slink in through the kitchen window.
He only looked away when he heard the creak of floorboards far too close to him. And by then, it was too late.
God fucking damn it, Ghetsis.

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT NOT AGAIN" Said Ghetsis, as he barely escaped being buried under a mass in fur.
He said this in all capitals because he was somewhat frustrated at the forthcoming turn of events.
He turned and bolted from the rapdily recuperating mass of dark-type. He knew he would have but one chance at this.
The zoroark's stared, momentarily stunned by the enormity of his thighs. A moment that was enough for him to close the distance to a pokeball
Floating before him was one of the more dangerous pokemon in existence; a hydreigon. The Zoroarks stared in horror,
"BILL YOU SHITHEAD, I AM BEING MOLESTED BY . MAKE THEM STOP!"
Hydreigon looked down at him with one of the more apathetic faces a reptile-hydra-thing snarl can pull. It looked up at the zoroarks, before floating off to the ensuite bedroom.
House Flipper was, after all, on at 8.
"Perhaps my consistent and systemic disregard for the wellbeing of my Pokemon has had consequences in both the karmic and ironic sense" thought Ghetsis, moments before being spear tackled from three consecutive directions.
He was carried in an undignified manner to the bed, yelling and kicking all the way. "Just you wait until my son gets home!" He yelled, but it was an empty threat. His son was off doing
It took but a moment for the cape to be torn from his slender body. Beneath, it might surprise you to know he wore nothing but
One had to make certain sacrifices when wearing an ankle-length cape in the middle of a Unovan summer.
His assailants certainly were not complaining.
He was.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU. GOD FUCKING DAMN IT WHY DO FUCKING ZOROARKS KEEP SEXUALLY ASSAULTING ME.

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Pub: 14 Sep 2023 11:35 UTC

Edit: 16 Sep 2023 10:26 UTC

Views: 168