ERC721

A creature birthed in the filth ridden fryers of an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and raised by an inbred ostrich farmer managing Spencer’s Gifts. A hole whose pores are clogged with stale mall air, developing tags and goiters that are scraped and used as wax for Yankee Candles. It knows no other existence nor does it care. It simply consumes what it can, when it can, and knows that outside of those rotating doors is only more sadness and regret. It is the beating heart of the sad town. Distributing tainted blood with every limp seizure. It and the town are parasites of each other, perpetually exchanging indiscernible fluids that rot from within. The shit flowing freely from its gaping hole fills lava lamps in the place it was born. Eventually it will die alone and be turned into a commemorative stuffed animal available at build-a-bear that doesn't sell well. It is one of five total butthole gods that exist in your hometown.

Name

butthole from your hometown #5

Owner

0x84f1E166d7F0C4884cBFf06a35600442c80ECd76

ID#133280

Rarity

N/A