Phantasmagoria

g̮̗͈̺͚͎͍͐̋͒̔ͅe̴̱̯̞ͮ̔̾̓̀̋̿̃̋͠t̴̥̣͎̻̉̉̑̉͝t̡̧̩̰͓͖̼̓͛̆́i̴̤̜̫͓̥̗̰͓͔̇͂͑͗ͭ͢͞n͓̟̞̯̥̳͎͕̝ͨ͆ͩ̇̾́͡g̴̵̜̫͊͋ͫ̍̊͌̆͑͊ ͔̠̣̣̐̀̀͠ͅȟ̞͖̘̞̖͓ͬ͌̍̉̔ͫ̋ͅí̷̝̚ͅg̢̬̠͈̳ͦ͆̍͛͛́̈̚h̶̰̙͈ͩ͆̑͌̓ͪ͌̐ ̰͕̃ͧͤ̊͌͝ͅȍ̶͍͕͍̠̰̗̣̄̈͒n̶̢̘͖͉̼̣̔ͫ͊ͬ̇͗ͩ̃ ͓̰̌̒v̵̤̠̭̩̦̞̲͛̉͗ͩ͊̽ȋ̴͎͎͉̼̭̓̋̎ͤo̢̲̺̝̺̙̅̅̕͢ḽ̵̰͔̹͎̰͌̍̾̈́͡ē̮̗̩̂ͫ͐̀͛ͬ̍͡n̴̶̤͖͍̤͋̆ͦ̚͠c̥͎̦̫͈̮̫̓ͬ̀̃͑ͯ́e̫̦̬̩͓̭͇̐͗ͧ͋ ̵̯̦̲̟͙̰̖̒̔̒ͦͨ̊͘͠b̶̧̠̯͇̭͖͆ͯ́ȃͩ҉̷͈͓͉b̻̥̫̒ͣ͑̀ͅy̥̦̫̬͔̞̦̤̎́

There. Little limbs and sticks and twigs. Maybe — yep, you’re right — he’s got a friend right there. You know me, I think even a tree needs a friend. There.
— Bob Ross, 1994

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