ato is actually crazy

Alright, listen. Atos don’t just smell bad—they smell like a mix of gym socks soaked in expired protein shake and regret. It’s like they choose to marinate in the stench of the frat house basement. And their sense of humor? Oh, it’s peak intellectualism. Sending pictures of their bowel movements to the group chat and captioning it, “DUMPY KING.” Iconic behavior, truly.

Now, here’s where it gets wild. One time, I made the mistake of crashing with an Ato after a party (huge lapse in judgment, 0/10 would recommend). I woke up to find him dead asleep with a full rotisserie chicken on his chest, like some unholy offering to the god of gains. Worse, he snored in sync with the sorority chants blasting from his TV. But here’s the kicker: I’m almost positive he whispered, “Gotta keep the streak alive,” in his sleep, like he was dreaming about his Snap streak with the boys. Absolutely cursed.