Dylan Tnga

Dylan Tnga (Dylan Burnett of Montreal, Canada) knows what Super Smash Bros is about. He knows how it's supposed to be played. Anyone who doesn't play by the rules of wavedashing, no items, and Final Destination is a scrub. Dylan is a resident tourneyfag of the Super Smash Bros message board called SmashBoards. While unknown to most of the e-populace, he is known to 4chan's /v/ to be a total faggot.

The way of whining, a SUBTLE ART OF SCIENCE

Birth defect or result of playing in too many tourneys?

IT'S OVER 9000!!!!

What a card! Compare this to his earlier posts below.

Dylan enjoys whining about every single little thing, because complaining about stuff is the only way he knows how to express his feelings. This tends to lead to many hissyfits and the mashing of keys, forcing people to stand back, lest they want the fucking Fury unleashed on them. Dylan enjoys wishing death threats on people who don't abide to the Tourneyfag way of life. Coincidentally, he has no friends whatsoever, since no one could dream of associating themselves with someone so pathetic. His outrage and overall levels of faggotry gained him e-notoriety on /v/ as the extremity of petty obsession over vidya games. One example of Dylan's anger is his crushing woe of only being able to play as a Leather-clad Samus by turning on items (something that greatly violates Dylan's beliefs). As a competitive Smash Brothers tournament gamer, this filled Dylan with great dismay, causing him to unleash a fury of anger that astounded the on looking Anonymous. The fury emitting from his keyboard was so overwhelming that he managed to get himself temporarily banned from Smashboards, much to the delight of fellow tourneyfags, as even they couldn't stand Dylan's pompous attitude.

Dylan Tnga can be seen in his natural habitat of SmashBoards.com every weekday at midnight, probably bitching about how items aren't how you're supposed to play the game (ignoring the fact that if this was true, items wouldn't even be in the game), or making death threats against the game director for not trying to appeal to his small niche of tourneyfaggots. Despite this, he gets incredibly pissed if the Smash Bros. website isn't updated promptly at 3am, and threw a shitfest that one night it didn't update until 4am, and notoriously "charged a dbz-type attack".

“

Alright, listen up you fucking scrubs.

Little shitstains like you are the reason Sakurai is dumbing down the Smash Brothers series from a competitive fighter to fucking child's play. This dumbing down (or as I like to call it, "scrubing" down) of a once beautiful franchise is making me pissed beyond belief.

You can see evidence of this bullshit from the 15 second video, where we see a massive nurfing of the OU character Fox McCloud by his decrease in falling speed. Not only that, but the promising new character Zamus is now only obtainable by using items. (Fat chance, Sakurai) I swear if they remove wavedashing just so you scrubs don't have to deal with superior skill, me and hundreds of others will fucking boycott this game.

You fucking scrubs have successfully destroyed my favorite hobby. Thanks for ruining my fucking week, assholes.

„

—Dylan, being a complete fool

Only scrubs use items, faggort.
Dylan's ideal sequel is one that's no different than the last game
Dylan fails at being a failure.
SmashBoards agrees that the internet is serious fucking business.

Youtubes with absolutely no music theft, ever

Dylan is a completely original artist who plays beautiful music with his perfect hands. His repertoire consists of game music as everyone knows the greatest music ever is game music. Dylan is in no way a music thief because those fucking japs just stole his songs from him years before he happened to play them. Don't you dare try to correct him on this because he is right, he is always right, DON'T TRY TO ARGUE WITH HIM HE IS TWENTY TIMES BETTER AT THE PIANO THAN YOU, FUCK YOU. He welcomes and encourages all critique because he is open-minded about other's opinions, except if you are being a hater which you probably are because you just don't understand art. Dylan's music is at all times immaculate as referenced by the roaring community response to each of his pieces. It is clear from the argument below that he is right and inscrutable but, most importantly, in no way an untalented song thief incapable of composing anything.

Hilarious Comedy

This is hilarious and zany comedy.

The Plot SHFFLs, the RISE OF JUSTICE

Some of Dylan's furfag friends found out that 4chan was making fun of him and trolling the fuck out of his YouTube. One friend even admitted that if this happened to him, he would have quit the internet forever. You can read the whole thread here, but here's a few quotes.

	“	He never used the word "scrub" to describe anyone who just plays for fun. According to his own definition, it describes "someone who has fictitious rules made up in their head that they believe to be the true way to play and will try to force them on others through such methods as calling techniques that they do not like glitches, or just cheap.	„
	—Irony

	“	If anyone can be compared to nazis, it is them. Nazis were without compassion. They murdered methodically and were blissfully ignorant of the fact they were dealing with human beings. This is no different. These 4chan people... not just them... all those who are what I'm describing now... they are the nazis of nihilism.	„
	— Fawriel

	“	If it had been me, I would have killed myself.	„
	—What half the Internet should do

	“	Anyone with the least bit of a heart would realize they are dealing with a person after listening to any of those songs.	„
	—Game Nerd 1

	“	You can't argue against an a mass like 4chan.	„
	—Game Nerd 2

	“	Basically, 4chan represents the worst of the internet	„
	—Game Nerd 3, who is unaware that flattery will get you nowhere.

	“	Bullshit, Dylan never whined.	„
	—Game Nerd PROTECTING FREEDOM

	“	It's nice and all of you to defend him Fawriel but regardless he's still guilty of creating an INTERNET DRAMA	„
	—Game Nerd 4

	“	I guess I need to go buy a fursuit now	„
	—Yes you do

The Synopsis

The anon who found the link talks about what happened:

"Alright, I'm a member of the Jazz 2 Online community (barely) as well as an anon. I woke up, looked at the JCF, saw "Rant about 4chan", and thought "this has to be good." I asked Fawriel if he was talking about Dylan. Turns out he was. I busted my ass laughing and posted the link to the thread on /v/ (Where Dylan_Tnga is a meme).

/v/ loved it even more than I did. /v/ decided to raid the thread. Not much happened, some posts and images, someone posted Guro, but that was it. The JCFers, after seeing that the original thread where I posted the link was deleted due to being old, declared victory. Meanwhile the raid caused the JCF admins to close registration. I think we won.

Also some furry girl has an avatar with the same color eyes as Suiseiseki. I lol'd."

Newcomer: Anonymous

The Internet, tired of Dylan's faggotry, decided to go forth and troll failed attempts of witty banter and TOTALLY CORRECT ASSERTIONS out of the pursuit of lulz. On June 26th, 2007, Anonymous paid a visit to SmashBoards.com, making it crash for a brief period. Dylanpasta, Mudkips, and Zippocat were all featured. When interviewed, one poster had this to say.

	“	What are you guys getting from this? Do you like spamming? Does it make you feel superior/better? Is there enjoyment to be had by messing up a thread or by harassing someone? Do you not care how much you guys annoy/hurt other people in the process? I know you guys have got to have some scruples/morals/values. So can you think of the feelings of others.	„
	—NES n00b

Yes, yes, yes, yes, wrong, no.

Part Deux

SmashBoards was visited again on August 2nd, 2007, where Dylan revealed he was not only a racist, but he also haets Mudkips. His youtube was subsequently raided for the justice of all the Internets.

	“	Thanks to you and your *gotly little butt friends from 4chan ive gotta turn off the commenting feature on my youtube until you ing faeries find something else to spam. You're a waste of ing human tissue, if I ever meet any of you I'll rip your **ing eyeballs out and impale your heart on a spike.	„
	—Dylan BAAAAAW'ing

Part Drei

On October 4th, 2007, Dylan threw his biggest temper tantrum yet on Smashboards. Anonymous sprung onto the thread quickly, and Dylan, in true drama queen fashion, threw up a futile resistance that only made Anonymous's penis harder. Well, except Ondore.

TOURNEY MODE IS BANNED FROM TOURNEYS
Dylan doesn't liek mudkipz. :(
Oh, geez, I hope I never run into this bad boy!
14 posts? Fuckin' scrub.
MILD ANNOYANCE MILD ANNOYANCE MILD ANNOYANCE MILD ANNOYANCE MILD ANNOYANCE MILD ANNOYANCE MILD ANNOYANCE
I HAET YOU!
Dylan's anger was so great, it rolled over to "not angry".
You guys are all chumps for falling for 4chan's plan but not Dylan

And for fuck's sake, guys, don't say stupid shit that will attract unwanted populace.

The New Dylan

Tired of constantly being ridiculed and bullied over the internet, Dylan has adopted a few ways to combat his depression. His main facade consists of pretending to be a scrub in an effort to show people how funny and ironic he is. Smashboards members eat the act up, but most /v/irgins know better.

His other technique is to pretend that he is Anonymous's friend, and therefore doesn't care about all the jokes his friends play. He mixes 4chan terminology and a 12-year old's Leetspeak in order to come off as a cool guy that doesn't give a single fuck about the shit that's been going down. As you can imagine, he fails.

Dylan is rumored to be posting on /v/. A namefag named Dylan_Tnga indeed posts on /v/ and talks in the same manner as Dylan himself, but he is more than likely a clever troll.

He has even stopped posting his opinions and using the word scrub, in fear of what horrors /v/ will unleash on him. He tries to act like he isn't an attention whore, but the fact he stays on for hours after he says he's going to sleep just to see people react to his posts says otherwise

Dylan, however, is still butthurt over his article here. Rather than delete fucking everything like Tartlets do, he subtly changes wording around to be in his favor. As sneaky as he thinks he is, he forgets how easy it is to spot and revert changes on a wiki. Sorry Dylan, your band sucks no matter how much self-praise you give it.

You can contact Dylan for lulz using his email - [email protected].

WE HAVE YOUR IP ADDRESS (70.52.19.191) FAGGORT. PREPARE TO BE SPACE FUCKED.
Dylan being Dylan and regurgitating funny words like a 10 year old watching South Park.
THIS JUST IN!! DYLAN DOESN'T EVEN OWN THE GAME!! OR A GAMECUBE FOR THAT MATTER!!

Copypasta

Scrubroll'd

We're no strangers to scruuubs

You know the tourney rules and so do I

A full pro's what's I'm boastin of

You wouldn't get this from any of those scrubs

I just wanna tell you how I'm SHFFL'in

Gotta make you understand

Never gonna scrub you up

Never gonna scrub you down

Never gonna run around without wavedash

Always gonna make scrubs cry

Never gonna play with items

Never gonna tell a lie, I'll hurt SAKURAAAAAAAI

The Fanfic

One wonderful Anonymous took the time to write up a mesmerizing piece of work about Dylan, and his escapades with Sakurai. The masterpiece is shown below, it was posted on the smashbros.com forums shortly after being posted in /v/, without a single complaint from the denizens of the forum.

Enjoy.

A warm reception for the fanfic.

Dylan's scarred, crimson hands rubbed together in frantic anticipation. The summer had been dull and wrought with boredom, but now autumn was waning and the Winter was fast approaching. He turned on his DS to check the date- this was the right date, it had to be. He navigated his way to the calendar, not bothering with the copy of Mario Kart he had in the system. The game was boring- too many scrubs who believed snaking was a "cheap exploit". Dylan scoffed. They just couldn't understand, and how could they? They weren't on his level. Dylan shook his head, clearing the rage generated by those no-good scrubs cleanly from his mind. He stared at the date looking down at him. November 2nd. It was a bitter cold morning, and he was standing by the door of an old warehouse.

He had arrived here after his frien- well, his parents entered him in a contest. They knew how much he liked that "Super Smash Brothers" game, and in recent months Dylan had fallen into a depression. When they heard of a contest where the winner got to receive the newest Smash Brothers game a day early, they entered him in the contest without saying a word. When he won, Dylan was furious at first. The game had been ruined, and this was just a bitter reminder- contest draws were for scrubs! A real contest is a vicious competition, not a name draw! Nevertheless, he obviously won because of his superior naming skills- he always told other people that his name was the best, and he believed it. He believed he was the best at most things..Smash Brothers included. Although he now hated the game series, he had learned that Masahiro Sakurai would be personally giving the game to the winner. This was a golden opportunity. He could finally tell Sakurai his true feelings, how he hated what the man had done to his beloved game...He could finally follow through on his threats and...Kill Sakurai.

He had it all planned out in his mind- he would meet Sakurai, shake his hand...And then grab him in a throw, chain-grabbing him until his damage meter was in the hundreds. There's no such thing as cheap shots. "Cheap shots" is just what scrubs call something they don't understand. Finally, after waiting outside the designated warehouse for nearly an hour, the door opened, revealing a short Japanese butler. "Ah...Contest winner? Follow" the strange man said, beckoning Dylan inside. Dylan followed cautiously, his neckbeard hairs standing up in shock when the door slammed shut behind them. After what seemed like an eon of following the strange man through dark, winding corridors, they finally reached a bizarre, empty room. Brightly lit, the room was entirely empty- even the Butler, who had mysteriously vanished, couldn't be found! Dylan looked around, noticing a crate over by the side. "Fucking scrub, I bet there's items in there...Sakurai has been anticipating me. God damn n00b" Dylan said, chuckling in self-satisfaction.

Hmm? Ah, you must be Dylan" a calm voice said from behind him, breaking Dylan's laughter. Standing behind him was none other than Sakurai himself! "SAKURAIIIIIIIII!" Dylan screamed, spastically running towards Sakurai in a manner which seemed as if he was trying to imitate the wavedash animations from Super Smash Brothers. Sakurai smiled cruelly, his eyes giving a menacing glare from behind his full, youthful hair. Pulling out a taser, Sakurai jolted Dylan, sending his pasty, scrawny figure falling limply to the ground. Dylan tried to remain conscious, but Sakurai quickly put his foot down on Dylan's windpipe. The scent of shoe polish making him even dizzier, Dylan felt a crushing force on his trachea as Sakurai laughed coldly. The room began to spin now, and Dylan mercifully lost consciousness.

When Dylan awoke, he was restrained by strange cords and hooked up to a bizarre machine. He was also totally naked, his discoloured hands a bright red against the pale white of his nude body. Sakurai stood before him, wearing a surreal, purple outfit made of what appeared to be leather. It was... Captain Falcon's costume! Dylan's favourite character! Of course, this costume had some modifications. Even more skintight than Captain Falcon's own outfit, the seat of the leather pants had been cut out, showing Sakurai's shapely japanese rear. The crotch had been cut out as well, showing the front of a pink, Kirby-coloured thong. "SAKURAIII! YOU SHOW YOUR TRUE FORM....HIYAAAAAAHHHH!" Dylan screamed, making sound effects as he tried to raise his power level enough to break free. Dammit! He needed more training, obviously!

"Silence, slave." Sakurai said, taking Dylan by surprise. "You may be aware that I've changed your beloved game...Do you know why?" Sakurai asked, his voice level and calm as his thin lips formed a callous smile. "Of course" Dylan smirked, ready to give Sakurai a piece of his mind. "You're dumbing down the game for the scrubs. They don't understand how the game is supposed to be played, and you're giving in to those n00bs. You're defiling an amazingly complex fighting game!" Dylan bellowed, repeating what he had stated on an internet forum many moons ago. "Fool! Do you think I care about tournament players and casual players! Both factions, idiots!" Sakurai said, obviously displeased by his prisoner's answer. "No! I ruin your game...Because I can. I need...I need fuel." he said, his boyish eyes suddenly gaining a very sinister, crazed glimmer.

Dylan's eyes widened..."Fuel?" He asked, barely able to spit out a single word. "Yes...For my machine. You see...I plan to travel the universe! And for me to reach the stars, for me to unlock the secrets of life and death, to traverse the great beyond and discover the origin of all life...I need your fluids! Your tears!" Sakurai said, his hair becoming disheveled as his body language rose in intensity, his petit, lean body quivering with passion. "NOOOOOO! YOU MONSTER!" Dylan cried, suddenly smiled. He sounded just like Goku there! His smile faded as he remembered where he was, however. "You see, tournament players...Have something wrong with their brains. Taking children's games seriously is just a symptom of their true nature. This chemical imbalance changes the very biology of their bodies...The chemicals mix in their body fluids, making a potent fuel source...I had gathered enough tears to nearly take off...But I'm running short, and I don't have time!"

As Sakurai spoke, Dylan noticed the way his mouth moved as he spoke. His thin, healthy lips seemed to form the words in an almost seductive manner, and his body language...His wiry frame moved about wildly, like an untamed, savage rogue...He shook his head. What was happening to him? "...Tears are not enough" Sakurai continued. "Thus, I needed to capture you. You see, there is one fuel even more potent than the tears of tournament players. Their...Semen." Sakurai smiled now, noticing the surprise on Dylan's face.

At the word "semen", Dylan felt a strange heat rise up in him. Although Sakurai was a diabolical villain, he was quite attractive in the objective sense. His hair was untamed and youthful, his skin a beautiful pale colour and his eyes...So boyish and charming. Dylan blushed, unable to hide his developing erection now. What was happening?! "Ah, its taking effect. While you were unconscious, I gave you a special mixture. All of the greatest aphrodesiacs mankind has ever known. I see its working..." Sakurai said, his cruel smile erupting into a menacing grin as he edged towards Dylan. Dylan noticed his hands were freed from their bonds now, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was his captor, his incredibly sexy captor.

Dylan met Sakurai's lips now, his scarred, abhorrent hands meeting Sakurai's hips. Sakurai quickly placed a firm, experienced hand on Dylan's penis, which by now was as red as his hands. "Please...Take me" Dylan begged, turning over and sticking his ass towards his hated enemy, spreading his legs for Sakurai. Sakurai smiled and began to whisper sweet japanese into Dylan's ear as his underdeveloped Japanese cock worked its way into Dylan's unwashed, sweaty asshole. It wasn't long until a tiny spurt of semen erupted from Sakurai's equally tiny penis, and the japanese became even louder. Dylan moved forward, taking Sakurai's cock in his hands now and getting on his knees, licking the semen and his own anal juices from Sakurai's pale cock. Finally, his master allowed him pleasure, knocking him into the floor and mounting him, his tight japanese buttocks bouncing on Dylan's pelvis.

With one hand, Sakurai reached down and gently stroked Dylan's neckbeard, drawing purrs of contentment from the sexually confused young man. After what seemed like hours of Sakurai's tight asshole soothing Dylan's raging erection, Dylan erupted in bliss, his juices exploding from his cock. He looked into Sakurai's eyes lovingly...But Sakurai's eyes had become a soulless void. From behind him, he pulled out a baseball bat..."What? But..I thought there was no items here!" Dylan said in horror...But it was too late, his body wouldn't move! "Ah, the muscle relaxants work. I just hope they've relaxed your rectum, white boy" Sakurai said with sheer malice, turning Dylan around and inserting the baseball bat into Dylan's asshole, an explosion of rectal juices and blood flowing from Dylan's stretched sphincter.

The room began to spin again now, as he thought he saw Sakurai insert a milky fluid into what looked like a little Warpstar from Kirby. But no, it couldn't be. Next, he could have sworn he saw the star blast off into the sky, crashing through the roof. No, it must be the blood loss...As the hole in the roof let in a blinding sunlight, Dylan blacked out.

Months passed. Dylan had nearly forgotten the ordeal in the warehouse. Nobody knew what happened to Sakurai. The news reported he had disappeared completely. They suspected he was involved in money laundering, or mafia ties. Dylan knew better though, although he was to embarrassed to reveal the truth. "Dylan, wanna play some Smash Brothers?" his furry friend asked him suddenly. Dylan went white as a ghost, even his hands became pale and almost normal-looking. And to this day, every time someone mentions Sakurai, Smash Brothers or those dreaded items, he nearly has a nervous breakdown. Although, when he sees a shooting star, something changes in him...And he can't help but get a huge boner.

The Other Fanfic

This got put up on /v/ somewhere along the lines. It wasn't really used outside of a single thread, but it is posted for prosterity.

Enjoy, again.

"Why, Sakurai?" Dylan uttered, disappointed. "You ruined it...the perfect game...You made it horrible. Melee was perfect and you've shat upon its legacy." Dylan stared into Masahiro's glossy eyes, piercing through his unforgiving soul. His rage could not be contained. He felt contempt for the one who made the perfect game, only to destroy what he held dear. He felt betrayed...

"WELL!?!" Dylan screamed, preparing to charge a DBZ-type attack, "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF, YOU COWARD? SPEAK!" Sakurai chuckled. "By the way, this time we’ve thrown "sliding boxes" into the mix." "FUCK BOXES!" Dylan yelled from the bottom of his lungs. "THEY ARE THE SINGLE REASON ITEMS ARE BANNED, AND EVEN THEN I WOULDN'T CARE FOR THEM! THEY'RE ONLY FOR SCRUBS, SAKURAI! YOU KNOW IT TO BE TRUE! I SUPPOSE YOU'LL BE TELLING ME ABOUT BANANA PEELS NOW, HUH?!" Sakurai stifled laughter, the breeze blowing dramatically. He lifted up a banana peel. "You’re gonna slip!" He said, snickering. "Trust me, you’re GONNA slip!" "Don't try that with me!" Dylan yelled. "First you make a character only usable by turning on items, then you secretly turn on items behind my back! You lie! You cheat!" Dylan ran towards Sakurai, his DBZ-type attack fully charged. Sakurai quickly tossed his banana peel right in front of Dylan's feet, and he quickly slipped and fell right on his back, unconscious. Sakurai stood over his fainted body and chortled in a somewhat sinister fashion. "See?! You slipped!"

When Dylan awoke he was in a bed with fine velvet sheets, naked. He saw Sakurai come in, naked as well. "What?!" Dylan yelled. "What are you going to do to me? You realize that only scrubs are gay, right? Are you going to make me a scrub?" Sakurai nodded, smirking. Dylan's face turned straight to fear. Sakurai advanced, and pointed to a portly man standing in the corner, his face concealed, but he was evidently wearing a hat. Dylan had not noticed him. "Mario is standing by!" Sakurai declared. "That low-tier pervert is going to watch you defile my amazing Smash abilities?!" Dylan screamed. Sakurai grinned devillishly. Dylan realized the danger he was in. This is not how he wanted to lose his virginity. He wanted to find a nice Zero Suit Samus cosplayer to lose his virginity to, not like this...not at all like this...He started to get up.

Before he could, Sakurai quickly pounced onto Dylan's pale, naked body. He was trapped now, and he had a japanese programmer rubbing his penis against his own. Dylan slowly was gaining an erection...to...to this!? He was becoming a scrub, slowly and surely...it was over. He would never be able to shinespark the same way again...

Sakurai turned around Dylan, his own penis incredibly erect (though that's not much considering he's Japanese). He widened Dylan's buttcheeks to make way for the tiny penis heading into territory unknown. "Bam! Bam! BambambambamBAM!" Sakurai said, immediately feeling the pleasure. Dylan felt pain at first, but slowly it changed to intense enjoyment...no...there goes Wavedashing, he thought.

After the surge of pleasure Sakurai removed his penis and turned Dylan around. He showed Dylan his own butt and gestured for him to return the favor. Dylan, his face full of tears, burst up and put his bizarrely marked hands on Sakurai's buttcheeks and thrust in, feeling gratified. He didn't care if he was a scrub anymore...the feeling of it all...it was just him, Sakurai, and Mario standing in the corner...

Sakurai moaned. "Enemies won’t flinch at the impact of its shots, but it does have rapid-fire capabilities," he said. Dylan had no idea if that was a compliment or not.

After a bit, Dylan removed his penis and looked at Sakurai, who turned around and pointed at his erect penis, dripping with sperm. "When someone touches it, PLUNK!" Sakurai declared. Dylan eagerly started giving Masahiro a handjob...It continued forever. Dylan loved the feel of Sakurai's sperm in his fingers, the lovely semen everywhere... "Now’s your chance. You can’t help but grin," Sakurai said, breathing heavily. Dylan did grin, and put his mouth around Sakurai's dick. The whole three inches of it went in easily. He licked and licked until his tongue was numb...

They stopped. It was too much effort to continue. They felt nothing but pleasure, their urethras throbbing in delight.

"Sakurai..." Mario said, still in the shadows. "What was it like?" "He’s... He’s strong," Sakurai said, panting. "He’s been doing some extreme training, I think." He looked at Dylan and said, "You really feel like a tourist!"

Dylan was confused by this strange man and his strange ways, but he loved him...they were scrubs, but they would be scrubs together...forever.

Gallery

Pix

Get a haircut, hippie!
If there were a mirror in front of him, he'd do the funniest spit-take ever before choking to death on his own vomit.
Dylan is 78% nigra.
Despite owning a sword, Dylan refuses to use Link. Only scrubs use low tier.