I was stealing saltshakers again. Ten, sometimes twelve a night, shoving them in my pockets, hiding them up my sleeves, smuggling them out of bars and diners and anywhere else I could find them. In the morning, wherever I woke up, I was always covered in salt. I was cured meat. I had become beef jerky. Even as a small, small child, I knew it would one day come to this.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 25246 | 2025-08-17 01:03:25 | 142.86 | 99% |
| 25142 | 2025-07-24 15:37:41 | 150.61 | 100% |
| 23440 | 2024-09-19 00:35:52 | 138.20 | 98.6% |
| 21784 | 2024-08-20 10:35:22 | 136.90 | 97.7% |
| 21123 | 2024-07-27 11:27:05 | 133.94 | 98.1% |
| 17790 | 2024-06-19 18:40:26 | 132.22 | 98.5% |
| 14252 | 2024-05-06 11:42:59 | 151.53 | 99.7% |
| 12680 | 2024-04-21 14:27:10 | 164.41 | 99.7% |
| 11899 | 2024-04-12 10:07:40 | 115.69 | 98.7% |
| 11436 | 2024-04-05 12:15:18 | 156.71 | 99.2% |
| 9335 | 2024-03-09 19:15:03 | 157.83 | 99.7% |
| 7093 | 2024-02-21 20:05:26 | 118.30 | 98.3% |