The Verse Repair Movement strikes (again)

Michael and his handsome alter ego, John W. King, started the Verse Repair Movement a month ago on Gay Flash Fiction, and they're upping the ante now by re-christening it as VRRM (Verse Repair and Resurrection Movement).

The platinum members of VRRM

 Here's their first result:

Transitioning, committing to friendship, 

Unlock,

That wild piece of work,

 @ this exciting journey.

We stand with you,

Limited by impactful data,
You.

Def not trying to make this awkward,

 Or staying relevant.

Committed,

We're proud to present,
Or getting,
 Oscar buzz.

The tech-savvy, mobile-first generation,

One that understands who they are and what they're all about,

Is a lifestyle brand that embodies the core values of its
 Fast-growing consumer base.

Well, think again,

You sleeky-sexy form factor,

Integrated seamlessly,

And rolled out,

As the old law demands.

A touch point,

Of leadership potential,
You,

Falling short on polish.

It's extremely uncommon for royalty,
 To be pretending,
 To be just one of us,
 So they can secretly woo you,
Real princes and princes,
 Typically embracing their true identities,
So they can wear crowns to the grocery store.

We, my hus-band, and I,
We are so thrilled,

doing serious social media numbers,

Breachings of peace,
Adventures in abstraction.

We offer this column to you,
Technology-addled morons,
 In service of the mission of bloating.

Do you think the whole world is going up in smoke to sleep with you?

Brick-and-mortar bookstores,

Billowing roles of side fat,

You can have the room in stitches,

Marooned.

You can paddle those flabby arms as much as you want,

Bomb at the open mic,

In robust debate.

Dappled in autumn yellow,
Us,

Insane,

Us, the landing page,

Pivoting,

Believing deeply in ussa mission.

Robust,

We are another robot to feed,

Aggressively.

"I'm openly gay,"
We say to you.

Float us a nice chunk,

A silent auction of a coffee date,

You filthy lucre.

We're slunk into every corner of Walgreens,

The evening rolling by,
 In whiskey and conversation.

 A drug-crazed libertine on the lam,

You're a pioneer and a symbol of freedom,

A shitstorm,

Cavorted,

Future Tense Central,

A bold-faced name,

Falling off the wagon,

drinking lustily,

The raft of new offerings.

Buzzkill.

To have someone famous shine a spotlight on you,

The sickest coin on the friggin market,

My power to demolish is ten times greater than thy power to promote,

Headwind,

And sugar-coat.

We'd be remiss,

Our supplies are scant.

Yes, we know,
It needs some work.

Underlying text here was gleaned from various posts on McSweeney's Internet Tendency and a few articles in New York Magazine.