Decokenite is full of cringe.

We all are.

Twilight looked up from her parchment, which at this point was long enough to not only reach the moon, but puncture it through the center, out the other side, and skewer the rest of the planets in the solar system like some kind of messed-up space kebab.

"No, you're cringe."

A tear trickled down the narrator's face.

Oh wait, that's Twilight.