The Worm hated legitimacy. Legitimate people with their legitimate lives - he despised them all with a burning passion. To the Worm these people were forever mocking his worm existence - mocking him by merely being. So the Worm's twisted dream was for him to be declared the legitimate one and for him to lord over them. In this way the Worm hoped to achieve the impossible: to not be a worm though having chosen to be one.
The Worm never believed anyone could love a worm. That fact, however, did not stop his need for love or his drive to seek it. It drove him into a hellish life of isolation and perversion. The Worm was lucky, though, because he was a privileged worm, his feet never to touch reality. Without the salvation of responsibility, the Worm was able to stay in his warped cocoon. This made the Worm very, very loyal to his enabling world of disconnected reality.
Deeper and deeper went the Worm into his sphere of Unreality, drugged and drunken, seeking to brand souls as his had been. But even though he was forever bailed out of his wickedness, the Worm could find no relief: he was still a worm. The tormented humanity left in him could stand no more, the road to excess finally caused this insect of inebriation to snap. So he did the one thing left for him to do: declare himself holy.
Joining the group of Declared Holy allowed the Worm to abandon all truth at last. All the glory of God was now his. He may still be a worm but now he was a worm for God. And that meant the one thing the Worm wanted most: to be loved. The false friends and worm lovers who gave him the approval he so dearly craved earned his ever lasting fear - just as they had planned. They formed an unholy alliance and set out to take over the world.
The Worm's ambition for power was as limitless as his need for the true love he could never have. "I'm just a worm, haha!" joked the candidate as he wormed his way into the lives of others. And while some were shocked and disgusted and dismayed and appalled and horrified and outraged an actual worm was running for office, many others fell under his spell. This greatly encouraged the Worm - and his twisted hopes of ruling the world incredibly came to be.
But getting what he thought he wanted was the Worm's worst nightmare. What was he really - even with all the misplaced love shown him - but still a worm? The Worm hid in his hole, waiting for the inevitable day he would be exposed for the fraud he was. Even his privileged life could not save him now. But something else did. War came to the land and the Worm knew the frightened sheep would rally around him for guidance. A miracle such as this could only be a sign from God. This gave the Worm a daring even he had never dreamed of in all his perverted fantasies.
He spoke to the mindless masses: "Attacked we is and war we be at! Your President me will lead blindly you! Fall divided house if me trust not! Win me will! Win me will!" Despite the shockingly bad grammar and graphic ineptitude of communicating, hearty cheers greeted the Worm's words. Too great was the belief that a failure to support their leader would lead to a failure in the holiest of all endeavors: war. With thumping heart, the Worm continued, "Confidence with say I: We are a nation of worms! Worm is your ruler! Worm is the winner! Worms we all must be!" It was the goriest moment of depravity in the life of the Worm.
The Age of the Worm blasted full speed ahead. A worm agenda was instituted at all levels of governing and a relentless campaign declared: "Be a worm or the enemy wins!" This made worminess patriotic, bring out the worst in the souls across the land. With uninhibited glee the Worm watched the "legitimate ones" debase and erode themselves - and any who didn't were declared traitors. And having once drawn them down into a wormhole hell of existence, the Worm knew how very, very difficult it was to climb back out again. "Let's see these so-called 'good people' repent their way out of the vice-like predicament I got them in now!" (he spoke much more clearly when not having to mask his evil).
Groaning and wails of torment rang louder throughout the land the longer the worm agenda continued - which was music to the worm's ears. He loved feigning heartfelt sympathy for their pain while secretly loving it. The Worm rampaged destruction across the country while sowing the seeds for further destruction long after he was gone. His thirst for revenge was insatiable - and sanctioned by God. Yet even with spiraling despair and agonizing deaths, the Worm stood Unrebuked - just as he had planned. This Purveyor of Pestilence infected his foolish followers with a chokehold he knew they could never escape: the Worm would never be blamed for their miseries because they would never blame themselves.
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