Okay. Deep breath. I (18TM) am this close to snapping and ascending into the astral plane just to punch a Roblox dev in the face.

For context: I’ve been stacking Robux like a responsible digital citizen. Commissioning, trading, selling, resisting every dumb overpriced hat and furry abomination that hit the Avatar Shop. I had 2,300 Robux. I was saving for a Limited—like a real collector. This was MY grind. My digital empire. My blood, sweat, and lag.

Enter my absolute parasite of a sibling (9F), who must have the IQ of lukewarm dishwater and the ethics of a raccoon in a Dollar Tree. She somehow got into my account (probably watched me log in and memorized my password like a Dollar Store Bond villain), and do you know what this goblin did?

She spent. Every. Single. Robux. On. LABUBU. LABU. FREAKING. BU.

The ugliest, most terrifying garbage I’ve ever seen. I’m talking “cursed plushie found in a swamp at 3AM with glowing eyes and a desire to consume souls” energy. She bought ears. Hats. An entire avatar themed after Labubu. My inventory now looks like it belongs to someone who eats glue for breakfast and thinks fonts are edible.

So, yes. In a moment of righteous, divine fury, I may have launched her—gently—across the lawn with the strength of a thousand betrayed Robloxians. She didn’t hit traffic (unfortunately), but it was close enough for my parents to start yelling about “overreacting” and “why did you hurl your sister like a dodgeball?”

Now everyone’s mad at me. She’s crying, my parents grounded me from my own devices, and I’m sitting here broke, humiliated, and one Labubu earring away from a full psychotic break.

So. AITAH for responding with physical vengeance when my digital bank account was obliterated by a sticky-fingered manchild with no taste?