This was the custom clip I received:

The other clip idea would be a birthday gift to myself (my birthday is at the end of this month). Here’s the script, but feel free to change anything you like:

It’s my birthday party and you are the only guest. How sad is this? Not a single person is celebrating the day I was born!

But if it wasn’t for money, you wouldn’t set foot in my house either. You name some horrible situations that would still be more enjoyable than this waste of a „party“.

You cruelly rant about how unpopular I am and shout harsh insu...

This was the custom clip I received:

The other clip idea would be a birthday gift to myself (my birthday is at the end of this month). Here’s the script, but feel free to change anything you like:

It’s my birthday party and you are the only guest. How sad is this? Not a single person is celebrating the day I was born!

But if it wasn’t for money, you wouldn’t set foot in my house either. You name some horrible situations that would still be more enjoyable than this waste of a „party“.

You cruelly rant about how unpopular I am and shout harsh insults at me that really make me feel like a grotesque and unlovable waste of space.

To further humiliate me, you make me write a pathetic birthday card to myself, for no one else will do it. You dictate a short text full of loser mockery for the saddest birthday bitch you‘ve ever encountered.

When you notice tears in my eyes, you show no remorse. There’s no pity for me, not even on my b-b-b-birthday!

Finally, you suggest we light a small candle „to honor this special day“... But plot twist, my urethra is going to be the candle holder! Once shoved inside, you make me light the candle and tell me to shut up, because now you‘re going to sing me the Happy Birthday song or For he‘s a jolly good fellow“ if you prefer that. . . But in a hurtful alternate lyrics version!

Once your mocking birthday song is over, you applaud your own performance and rave about how fun this party would be if only I didn’t spoil it with my presence!

You scold me for ruining every party I attend and come up with cruel ideas as to how insignificant worms like me should spend their birthdays more appropriately, stripped of all belongings, social life and even the most basic self-care.

In the end you get so sick of looking at me that you can’t be bothered to stay a minute longer.

You rush off, instructing me to keep sitting there all by myself until the candle in my peehole has burned down completely.

Good riddance.