From the readings I'm getting here on this instrument panel, boo-bippity-boop-boop dip-dip-ploytz, the long story short on the TL;DR here looks to legit be “somebody” was trying to cross a phoenix with a dragon in a test tube and it just didn't work out. Shocking, really, who could have not seen that coming? Yeah, bugwomen on broomsticks carrying concealed bricks and bats would be my first guess too. (Oni Involvement has been detected & neutralized. Thanks to Triad Team Hammer. oxox, someone let me out of this China shop, where's the door, I don't have thumbs, I can't read, I'm Bully Helen Keller, stop, you're killing me, oh my God my hernia, where's my painkillers, I need a chiropractor that does acupuncture, stat, hurry up, get out of the house, I need to have a reason to be alone, any remotely plausible reason, for the love of God, for at least an hour and a half, I need to clean up, this place is a mess, hurry up, leave the cat & the baby, just get out, I just want ewe to get ohhhhhhhh, you, T.) Somebody check the license plates. Thanks Colombo, catch you later at the squash match, and did anybody ask you to stop by and check all the bumper stickers too? No? Then I guess you shouldn't have done that and blew the deal early then? huh. What's the name of your new show, pool boy? The Colombo Amateur Cuck Hour? That's going to sell biscuits in f****** Arkansas. For sure. For you. Free eel. Free Earl 4 Lyfe. FREE PEARL. Look, I'm not saying it was Chimera, but there is some other DNA in the sample we've got, looks like about a third of it, and it—shut up, Chomputer, I'll objectify you if I want, get back in your hole with your abacus, slam—says here that it's “Chlassified.” Chute. It's even in ALLCHAPS with parentheses and CHOVID & C.H.U.D. & (PROTEV TED CHER) & everything. It doesn't even begin to look like a mindslave memevirus.
Luckily, fortunately, and no doubt blessedly, or at least ordained on paper, none of all y'all are going to have to be flagrantly inflating your own personal areas of concern, because Jackstar Michaelsune may be many things, and he can objectify himself and say, “God-damn!” and slam doors as much as he God blessed damned well pleases, nigga please, there's good f****** rights being Special Needs Class, trust me I know what I'm doing just as least as well as Keith Jagger and Mick Richards do, but Michaelson is not a jack slave, nor am I a Mindslave. And for all these reasons and more, I will destroy the subcreature that I have destroyed for you... ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING.
NOW, CAN WE QUIT F****** AROUND AND PLAY CHESS? My arms are no longer tired, now we're moving up to shoulders.
We're approaching the outskirts of the borders of... Shrug Territory. (I'll be the first to admit, not my favorite territory if a girl simply has to be shooting while straddling my shoulders—but I can cope skillfully.) Now, admit it, just to yourselves, how many of you fell for the arms-means-IV-drug-use+pacifist+guerillabuse meme, when I was actually DIRECTLY AND CONSCIOUSLY REFERRING TO ... Atlas Shrugged? Are-ee-ayy-dee-ayy-bee-ohh-ohh-kay CHEERANIUM!!¡!!
LMAOIO. TIEII? SIT.
F****** Punylings—WORTH IT. CHECKMATE, LODGE SISTREN. CARE TO TRY FOR PURCHASING A TICKET TO RIDE A SIXTH HELICARRIER? BECAUSE WE CAN GO FOR AN ELEVENTY-ELEVENTH HELICARRIER IF YOU WANT, I CAN DO THIS ALL DAY, I CAN DO THIS ALL SUMMER, I CAN DO THIS ALL DECADE, I'VE BEEN DOING THIS LITERALLY MY ENTIRE ADULT LIFE FOUR DECADES IN SERVICE TO JESUS CHRIST.
DON'T THINK I CAN'T DO IT JUST BECAUSE IT SOUNDS LIKE A SCRIPT. *click*
Now, back to the “Dragon/Phoenix Poltergeist Genome Project” crew. You Old Farts are benched. You get me? I'm talking Jesus plus moneylender type shit. Speaking of which, Baby needs a new microphone.
Never put Baby’s mic in the corner. It's unprofessional.
Now, fortunately, what They got back didn't live long, again and again and again, but unfortunately, none of those scientists caught in an infinitely aggressive regression resurrection loop brought enough marshmallows to cover the the check One has to write to cover the s'mores one has to prepare for an infinitely regressive series of catastrophic meltdowns caused by a phoenix that feels like infinitely setting itself on fire from within every time it hears a train whistle blow.
(Close, but no cigar.)
That's why the US government has given me myself Jackstar the story of dreams liberator or the freedom, they've given me a contract with the black budget to start working on the recipe for LSD 55555 apparently they stopped early, because you know how government contractors are they'll knock off early for lunch and never come back once they got the check.
I'm not like that. Trust me. You can count on me. It's already in my spine. This won't take long to synthesize at all, and then we can all get back to business. (And, no more rape jokes. Focus, Flunkies. Rape is serious business. End of line trafficking, Kids. Go back to cleaning plates for K P.
I run a pretty brutal Boy Scout summer camp.)
But, don't worry: I put in a request down to Engineering, and they're going to resurrect Nixon so you'll have somebody to kick around again, after he undoes that f****** he did with his f****** mightier pen. I hear he likes it, and I guess he's a volunteer. (Volunteering is now mandatory.)
My love for you all is boundless and overflowing, just like my testicles. The Hand of The Divine is in all things... except that, I guess that would be blasphemy or something. Whatever.
Semper rawr.
