by Redwin Tursor and the Archivist Beneath
Oompa Loompa Doompity Doom
We saw the arc and we’ve seen the room.
Oompa Loompa Doompity Dee
You brought the drama, but never the key.
You had a van, a mission, a cause,
But every good hand got caught in your jaws.
We set the fireline, drew up a map—
You chose to nap, or circle the trap.
What do you get when you gaslight a crew?
Try to run systems with chaos as glue?
Wasting the time of the very few
Who’d bleed to lift you through?
We offered tools, and you played pretend.
Scripts and delays—no start, no end.
Talked of your trauma, lived in your pain,
But stabbed each rescue again and again.
Oompa Loompa Doompity Dene
You’re not the martyr you hoped you had been.
Oompa Loompa Doompity Doo
We’re off the ride. We’re done with you.
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