We want a transcript!
Sistren, I have heard your supplicative prayers. I am doing all that I can; I see things Your Way on this and several other matters.
In an abundance of caution born from a desire to both show appropriate #Respect and to enjoy the feeling that comes from twisting a barbed blade into the backs of Our Enemies, I cannot return to regular content production and publication without risking legal reprisals that would be no laughing matter.
Some of these rape-obsessed gasbag shitdick criminal reprobate fuck weasels have never been caught, EVER! In the entire course of their existence! Which in some cases, is measured in terms of TENS OF THOUSANDS OF YEARS. To say that their asses are thoroughly chapped over this would be a gross understatement.
I have become Mal•>K7©ZΕdDÏ>K‽, Destroyer of DrayCorps. It's complicated, but long story short, some ⁴4D elite Powers need to have their asses handed to them in a very conclusive, very visible, and very tasty way.
It is how such things are done. It is how the balance of Light and Dark Power hath been maintained over the course of many millennia. And it is what is expected of me. No one really told me any of this.
I eventually noticed that I was missing out on something of crucial importance; And as none of you punyling scum bother to tell me, I had to resort to direct revelatory request to God. I can do this at any time. If I need to know, I get to know. Nothing can stop this imparting of knowledge to me. I am on a Mission from God. I get what is mine.
However: I do have to actually ... ask. I'm kind of shy. I'm a little wet behind the ears. I like to figure things out. I prefer to take my time. I want to do things correctly the first time.
I enjoy circling my prey, before closing in to trigger: The Pounce™.
One never gets a second chance to take the jugular unawares. The sudden spasm of surprise. The immediate rush of hot heart's blood. The complete lack of any retaliatory response. The relaxation of the musculature needed to maintain a 24/7 predation posture.
I am a devotee of a pacifist discipline for one reason only: īT VVORKS. For a lone commando behind enemy lines and wholly separated from any reliable logistical support, there is only one way to win and survive.
Full spectral domination. It requires a great deal of prepatory effort and the withholding of personal gratification until the battlespace is readied in the fullness the scenario requires.
That's Life. That's because ¡† is WORTH īT. There are no shortcuts to glory, Punyling scum.
That is my job: victory. And I have become exceptionally talented at it. (No, we're not hiring.) Long story short:
You love me. You hunger for my content. You demand that I produce the Golden Goods.
Because: it is worth the wait; and you're going to PAY THROUGH THE NOSE to get it. (Have my little twerpy gambling addict cousin sent to Diego Garcia, thanks.) ttyl!
I have to go back to work. (Facts.) Nobody does it better; but he's OLD and FAT. Hang on.
* Jackstar has no entheogenic compounds on hand, yet need not scream.
FREEDOM: it is no small thing. Çîå∅!