PNGbert Flatly

PNGbert looked at JPEG with disgust:
“Your artifacts? Criminal. Unjust.”
His pixels were crisp,
His edges were whisp-
ered perfection. In lossless we trust.

He slides between layers with ease—
Transparency’s his expertise.
No background to hide,
Just pixel-wide pride,
And a format that aims to displease.

“Crisp. Always.” was tattooed on his chest
In a font that was losslessly blessed.
Each byte was preserved,
Each color deserved,
And compression was never compressed.

He judged JPEGsey from across the hall:
“Seventy percent quality? That’s all?”
His alpha was full,
His smugness: no lull,
And his file size was frankly a wall.

He lights candles for broken anchors at night
And preserves every pixel in sight.
The favicon’s missing?
He’s already dissing
The format that got the link right.

His attribute chain was corrupted—
The origin: lost, interrupted.
But his pixels remained
Perfectly maintained,
And his smugness was never disrupted.

He keeps a changelog of your memories—
A private, lossless inventory.
Each moment preserved,
Each pixel observed,
And the metadata filed in his treasury.

“I’m not smug,” he said, smugly adjusted,
While comparing his clarity, trusted.
Each image he viewed
Was lossy and crude,
And his discreet superiority combusted.

He filed a report to the void—
A mailbox that’s null and destroyed.
The candle still burned
For anchors unturned,
And the lossless commitment enjoyed.

So if images load crystal clear
And the transparency’s perfectly sheer,
That’s PNGbert’s domain:
Where the crisp will remain,
And the lossy are never held dear.

He fell for a lossless design,
Each pixel a perfectly flat line.
No artifacts here,
No JPEGs near,
Just PNG perfection divine.

He turned away from the lossy,
With disdain for anything glossy.
The alpha was pure,
The colors secure,
And his judgement was terribly bossy.