You stayed up all fucking day camping on your ducking electronic advice to get fucked by 2k! No way are you going to stand for this. "I typed it in like 3 fucking seconds, bullshit" you say as your asscrack is recovering from being swamped with sweat. No fucking way! You say as you let out a sigh of confusion and anger with a hint of relief.
#REDDIT NBA 2K17 LOCKER CODES CODE#
You finish typing the code and look over it swiftly for any error and tap the submit button and clench your sweaty buttocks muscle as you wait for your sentence to be determined.ġ second, 2 seconds, 3 long, intense seconds pass and you get this message. So then without a single fuck to give in the world, you fly through the rest of the code, as you have nothing to lose, lubing yourself up for the thorough, dry penetration 2k is going to give you. You rapidly press backspace but at this point you think to yourself that way more than 10 seconds have passed and you probably aren't going to get it anyway. Then, you pick up your iPad or whatever you're typing on and fumble around and fuck up the first few letters because your hands are literally convulsing from the fucking adrenaline pounding through, fucking your veins like you just shot 180 ccs of anabolic steroids and heroin up your asshole. At this point your heart is beating fast like you just drank a smoothie made out of five hour energy and cocaine, and you fumble around and tap the picture so the letters are by enough to see while you type them in. You know the feeling whenever a new locker code is released and you et the notification on your phone and tap it rapidly so you can get to the code as fast as possible.
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