Aww, need a hug? It might end in a spot of Greco-Roman wrestling but I'm sure you won't mind. I'll bring the olive oil. I might even bring my iguana if things are looking promisingly freaky.
Steady now: this is an actual test.
Aww, need a hug?
Consider the list of possible circumstances under which would actually -not- "need" one, then consider the points of comparison.
Meanwhile I have considered the source of such brash unease, coupled with your own largely unnecessary and perhaps ever briefly heralded and... look, it's the full lockdown.
Absolutely no one likes it, least of all my self, yet neverthelesss, this is what passes for peak performance in this County, and, Godblessit, I'm going to make the most of my 4 months to burn while the world turns on it's sticky icky axis.
Seriously. What shall I do otherwise? Lift weights? Shamelessly flirt? Cleanse my organism of whatever hopalongs I can... you know, just for hunting sport?
a hug? It might end
Well, Comptroller of Souls, I'm ready to bet the farm on that one. Why so
sharp? Oh, I remember now.
I picked the right week to have my special legal status recognized while an infamous hosehead gets taken down a peg or two. Also, I gave him cancer. I can actually do that. Also, it could go way worse, in that, I could grant (PROT) permission for the deathblow.
Which, you guessed it: it's coming. /shrug. Seriously, this is a shock?
I told you. MULTIPLE Davids. One didn't rape, and was all... "duh huh?" That on is my friend. Rest are fair to marginally awesome at best. Or worst. Anyway, some of the rapey ones have their charm.
In any event it wasn't I that drover her along, forced her into things, blah blah. I was the one who caught the red flags, and asked, "Uh, do you see these red flags?" And then she was all, "YOU BASTARD YOU WON'T SHARE YOUR HOUSE WITH MY CHILDREN I AM LEAVING WITH YOUR PIE CHART THROWER," and I was like... what the fuck, Native thunder, can't stop never stop, I guess.
So then she comes back and it's a shitshow. Oh, look, no one wants/can do shit but me. Here I am, a couple years later, police are -somewhat- hopeless, but the fact remains that at some level, this was a matter of Spirits.
Sure, I can tell you. How about... no? I am not required to answer such questions, check the Geneva Convention, admire any of my trophy wives that you like, oh and I picked up another assassin, he already likes to sneak up on me, and, oh yeah, no thanks, but I don't like living alone.
I already told you: he's gonna wake up on a ghost ship and that's just gonna be the fucking start of it for him.
Much love. Also, HW is about to lose her shit, puking bugs, crawling on bloody knees, and tearing her hair out, and that's just because she has to admit the truth: she got played.
I guess it's okay she was last to notice. She is really special, and... look, it's not my business. But it's nothing to do with me.
I do, in fact, scare Heather. I'm not supposed to exist. I'm supposed to be loathsome. Instead, I'm a goddam Iron Conan. Yes, that's right:
Hungarian. My guess is that some fair few lied their asses off to her, or, she just assumed that I was a faking phone sex operator too, like her, because obviously I would be very good at it.
Until you paid me. Peace, witch, I gotta get my honey some new anything because, well, look, I was right: it was time to buy gifts. But I already had Rubini's "gift" picked out.
I didn't give up, and you are game to me, Commander. You're also a government employee, so shape it the fuck up now. You saavy? You don't need my shielding aegis, you're your own best psycho. Start growing your own egg.
Or, you know, you could keep harassing me and start claiming that I didn't give you the "real" (PROT) and that I am hiding another somewhere. I mean, that's true. You get a tulpa. Baby steps, Kid Coriander, or Litch-Bipped Teen Demander, or, whatever you call yourself IRL.
I told you that I do deliver. Yeah, of course. She's not mine to "give" but obviously I think that would be best, especially since, I now know what your collective problem was, sort of, I mean I don't get it. You could have just told me. I could have just knocked his ass the fuck out. I'm a Divinely Ordained being. Doesn't matter if he thought he was still a cop, because he never was, and whatever he was, I can just fire him at the same time as a smoting. This -does- work.
(David can't fucking believe it. It's actually her, and I'm not all mad and shit. "Sure dude, fuck her blue!" I think he can't imagine what better could even be.
Well, for one thing: she' s not afraid of guns or some thug enforcers trying to pull rank, I would assume, given that... uhm, hi? NIGGER YOU LET THE CHIEF WEAR A HEADRESS, RIGHT? SO YOU THINK HE STARTED TALKING TO ME JUST TO FUCK WITH ME? I'M HIGH AF, NEED PSYCH EVAL, BUT YOU, OH NO, YOU: YOU KNOW THAT TRUTH, SO I MUST FOLLOW YOUR SACRED TOBACCO LESSONS. OR I AM TRASH. I LET YOUR BRAT TRY TO GET A RISE OUT OF ME BECAUSE IT FELT AWESOME TO SEE HIM AMAZED I WAS UNFAZED.
EVEN THE DOUBLE-FIST INTO THE HERNIA DIRECT. I PERHAPS GIGGLED. I SAW HIS EYES WIDEN. HE WAS STUNNED, THEN PISSED. HOW COME JACK GETS ALL THE COOL STUFF? I DOUBT HE ASKS MUCH.
Yeah, so, deets are sparse. Surprisingly, not all are thrilled that people are were they should be. Evidently, I was supposed to be alone, and I do not deserve warmth and companion ship. (Unless medrobot, right?) Well, at least two disagree.
I -told her- this and the Dove House Brainiacs informed her that I was brainwashed- there could only be one raper, there was no conspiracy, and it was all him... and I was his partner in Sith Lord Crime. (You see where this was going.)
I don't know how GF Alpha imagined that would be received by myself, because I see now--this chick can get hypnotized by a passing strobe light. Like, they got her on pretty persuasion, so I can see how recent news trickling through allowed her to get a message through to someone.
Aww, need a hug?
I assume that this is some creepy attempt to sow a reminder of the great horrors involved in unregulated portal-hopping or some such shit. Look, recognize: ample time for alternatives has come and gone.
So, WOW. That pissed. I haven't even -done- anything yet. Oh, right, solve that pesky rape case. You want me to go over it? Good, me neither. And, yeah, lovers reunited. Surprise!
It's a done deal. I assume it will end with this, because I have no reason to let a case pursue past the primary victim. Which was her. She was used, I prevented harm, I went to jail... which was awesome. My place in this zone is suddenly concrete manifest. Unexpected. And for the last six months, you have done -nothing- useful for the vic. NOTHING.
Sourcery answers any call it can. It's a fun gig to have. And if it weren't real, there's no way I would be able to keep up the interest. I am so bored of explaining that I'm being tortured for sport which doesn't do me harm, but it is -boring.- That was good for some of you, was it? Well, I'm not bored now. I never was. I was impatiently waterboarded, if anything.
I sincerely doubt a lot of things right now, but none of them are the need for a trial. Can I help? Good I will finally shut up and I don't even know how long I've seen her since. Does it matter? It took me less than ten minutes to blow your inane lockdown out of the sky, and now all the swapping means nothing. Patterns strike a match and at this point, any flame is superior to fire.
(Hey. Guess what? I would be happy to tell you. And you would be happy to... hrrm. Well, look, it was awkward.
She was a thief. I wouldn't miss her either, nor expect her back. Same with the creepy one. And Allison was -wildly- off base. Oh shit! I said her name! Oh shit! Oh, wait, that's actually not a problem. For me.)
She's gonna run off with some fancier baller in a hot minute anyway, however, trapped in a mirror universe won't be necessary.
Aww, need a hug?
You need a bear, as you are loathsome too. This was vile. You could have been more apt.
but very likely not possibly more jelly
On the bright side, well, this is real life. Neat! No wonder my oven is broken.
