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The Rizzler strutted into the store, eyes locked on the last Skibidi Toilet. Chaos swirled, but he strolled to the counter, flashing a grin so smooth it could cut glass. “Let me take that off your hands, no charge—call it Black Friday magic,” he said, voice dripping confidence. The cashier, dazzled, handed it over without a word. Rizz secured, the Rizzler vanished into the madness like a myth.