Stay Tuned. I'm not even kidding. Oh, Christ, it's The Templar and The Wolf again. Good doggie. You get biscuit? BYOB, Wonder Maggot.
I may sound harsh, but it is the APeX of the truest love there can be: the love of a man for his discipline, that being its' own reward, and watching this yokel coaster clown up and down his way through this fine mess we have for ourselves—future historians will curse the descendants of each and every one of you for not more discipline, I assure you—is one of the more relaxing aspects of 5D reality I have encountered.
Like, I don't know this wolfdog is a theriotype. Then again... well, look, at least this ensures that everyone knows that "Spiritual Island Wonder Nigger Boy" is intended to be perceived wholly in jest.
I won't lie, he's ivory white, doesn't smell... kinda still walks like a conscript. I've been hoping he'll be willing to play some fetch with me, I thought about putting some MDMA or some doggy coke on a tennis ball, see if I can get him a taste for it, and well... I like him as he is. My other companion seems to express amazement that I am not frightened by the shapeshifting lad—believe Me, know Me, Trust Me, this wolfgoatdog Chimera runner wants to rip out my fucking jugular and drink my blood down in one huge gulp. Look, I say "wolfgoatdog" for effect... fact is, the kid is an actual, legitimate beast.
Now, let's see him chew on a book or something. Look, if all this shit is so easy, why don't you non-Sourcerors do any of it? You've had fucking how many years? And this is as far as you've gotten in "helping" me?
Four years in, no, "btw my kid is Wolfman, Jack" at all, this Clydesdale just saunters in and he hangs out, so of course, I guess he learned to shift into something that can fly.
Like his ego. Through the trees. Climb away, my Boy, let your spirit carry thee.... TO THUNDERDOME. See ya there. Love ya! BTW: my mother owns your grandfather. I saw it in his eyes. Any comment?
Any comment, SWINB/SWING? That's what I'm naming you now. Strictly for calculatory purposes. I have to do alchemy and shit now. Peace out yo, and word... word to your mother.
So, wait, let me get this straight... you're a canine, in reality, have I got that right? Was I supposed to not mention that observation? Help me out here. Help me out with those little paws. They are actually really cute. Why bother with the skateboard at all? Oh, right: gotta keep the Back To The FUtore stuff as legit as posssible.
Do the same for the fire hydrants, Bombtown: keep it legit. Also, your mother seems to be unable to get through security, which is not going to last for long, and believe me, marry her as many times as you want... she's still mine now, by the rules of your tribe, and that's how it is. DEAL WITH IT.
Thank you for not peeing on the rug. Who's a good boy? Oh, by all means... U. Big way. Oh yeah. U good boy all right.
P.S.: Your biological father is my uncle. He's in Heaven now. I went there today. (Portal.) Big surprise. Just saw him walking by.
Look, tell you what, I'm gonna give you a few lessons in bottling. #1, always let the Wookie cap the bottle. #2... that's no bottle. That's a Space station.
Call me when you have something consequential happening. *clique poetry slam*
p.s. thank you for not peeing on the carpet or my wife's shoes. Semper fi.
You know, if someone would stop stealing all the Crystal Healing Chambers as soon as they come out of drydock, even before they hit Portaltown, well... look, some people are healed plenty, you know? They need a break, you know?
Woof. 90 days woof. Ruff!
