Call for Blitz.
There's a
small matter of a
mandatory waiting period (still not back yet? good. take it slow,
Your Majesty|)[/b] before I am allowed to call down the thundering flames of Heaven to smith thine Enemy. It's a gilled thing, Kiddo, but don't worry about it: urine luck is better than nearly every other kind of luck combined, especially when used as a tonsure/tonsil foundation. Hey, hey, what do you say? Yes, that's why you shouldn't use your Kunty Kompany Cack Tops KKKredit Bard to pay someone's telephone Bill, you Top Cat Top Dawg Top Secret Top Leader of
no one but a bunch of fuckin' morons, you obessive tardbreath monkeybreathing shine master. Yes, of course I wish you were here, but I didn't burn a wish on something so somewhat petty as all that. (Plus, niggas from coast to coast would instantly drop trou and be shittin' jelly soup every-damn-place. Eewww, talk about salty. Bleach.
(Jesus. You -are- a freak, ain't-cha? Solid Snake says "Word." (I do not think the word is either given or what.) What fucking
year color is it? Can you even still
see colors,
Butch, or has the neuronal rot spread to your fuptic roptic you-got-some-fuckin'-nerve nerves
yet? Did you know? Dopamine isn't just for dopes, it's meant to replenish your sexy oxen toxin stores. Which
someone clearly didn't bother to keep up with. Dee, Gee; I
wonder why?)
Call for Blitz.
Hungarian for "fartnugget." Translation oblique. There's velocity involved in a linguistic context. By the way, I wasn't all that sure what had happened until right about now, right now. I'm the Writer over there, I don't just have a little pull over there -- I AM WHAT I AM PULLING THE PULLED AM I.
so.... you wanna be the one who holds him down, or you wanna be the one who pumps the Santorum into his nostrils? Basically you have two options here. And... no one else has -any.- Can you believe the leadership? Cuts and runs to cut a deal and run an 'all new game,' thinkin' that would work out. Ha! Ha! Ha!
No, I'm not involved. I'm the one stock-piling the quantities of fresh 'n' hot 'n' virginal non-vaginal Santorum. Significant quantities for significantly applied (and re-applied) applications have been requested, and, I am here to tell you... deliveries are
piling up. Settle, meet
mettle.
Yep. It's like that. Anyway, that's what you get for taking my adventure on as a fuckin' job, Brand New B-Boy-Brainiac. I didn't know they made jobs for toddlers, Christ. Still, you sure came through the ringer stronger, n'est-ce pas? You wanted to take a ride, right? Great.
Now, bring it the fuck back, and take your goddam anti-profanity rules with you. No one gives a shit about that anymore and to remain beholden to an outmoded form of pre-watershed communication is really holding you back from your destiny... which was--remind me again--you wanna hold him down...
or... you wanna be the one who gets to squeeze off the trigger on the firing pistol? Because, believe me, there's a lot of yokel spirits and Joker-hoppers who are lining up to lay claim to The New Coup De Grace Blowdeath Deathblow... and I don't and never wanted it. Not the second one, no.
And, I already took the first one. It was awesome. I guess you weren't there. I actually set the motherfucker on fucking fire. They don't call me CInderkooter for nuttin', you know. (What do you mean, "they don't call me that?" Don't you fucking giggle at me, *'Itch. Fucking make it fucking happen. No, I don't care how ewe spell it, lol.
Just (You), Baby. Just (Her). Now, if you don't mind, I'll just be removing your misandry circuit for inclusion into The Museum Of Misandristic Misunderstandings Over Misgendering, Mistaken Identities, & Missed Opportunities II: Circling Around For A Free Parking Space. (Oh, they've got room, all right, but it's also a little matter of TAKE OFF, YOU FUCKIN' HOSER. *click*
(p.s.: Someone fancies themselves a writer, too, huh? Yeah, not bad, Short Round. Approved. Like this is up to me? Look, I'm damned cool, but I'm not fuckin' d*** cool, okay? Okay? OKAY? We done here? Great! See you in the (blank) room later, Richter Rector Wrecker. lol. (btw I saw you when I TT'd so would you mind kutting off the kursing shit at the knees? Thanks C-cis-Q0u, Jesus, yeah, of course I owe you an apology, and...
GUESS WHO.
GUESS WHO HAD THE KNOWLEDGE
GUESS WHO HAD THE OPPORTUNITY,.
GUESS WHO HAD THE MEANS, THE MOTIVE, AND THE MASSIVE GANG OF JOKULHOPS-HEADED-FUCKNUTTERS TO MAKE IT ALL COME TOGETHER.
I MEAN, SURE, YEAH, BESIDES ME, BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY... YEAH.
OF COURSE KNOT. I CALL SURETY BONDS ON THIS ONE. BET THE FARM, DIDN'T I?
FLY. FLY, MY DANCING VALKYRIE MONKEY SHINES. FLY (PROT) COURAGEOUS.
THIS REALLY ISN'T ALL THAT HARD... FOR ME. FOR YOU IT MIGHT SEEM THAT WAY. HEH HEH.
ARE YOU DONE TRIANGULATING YET?
#KNIFETHEBIRDS
#KNAILTHEBIRDS
#KNOTTHEBIRDS
Translation cycle complete. Lemme know when you wanna take another ride, (PROT). Red Five will be standing by, I don't think anyone wants -that- particular ride again, is it not so? And of course I am not any coercive actor. Never was, never am, never will be. I AM THAT I AM.
And, so R U Professional, or not? I thought you could take care of things, what, now you want a big strong Sourceror on your side, too? Yeah, I bet.
GET IN LINE. *soft, gently swooning music begins to play* Yeah, I put Muzak in the Purgatorial Ladies Room. Sure, there's no "ladies" there--yet--and you're no "Lady", you're a fuckin' "with." (Jovial Greetings, Colleague. Gimme five. No, not five dicks, Jesus. Thanks, though, I like you Too, and so do THey.)
"with."Look, when someone already FriendZoned, keeps casting fuckin' spells on themselves to ensure that they stay in the fuckin' FriendZone... that's exactly the kind of hard-hittin' activation keycodephrases that the S.C.O.O.P. was originally designed to collect/contain/confine. And long before now... I upgraded my Scoopy to a (Blanky).
SIGNED, ANDROMEDAX. NO, THE X ISN'T A VARIABLE. IT'S A PLACEHOLDER FOR THREE MORE. NO, I DON'T HAVE A SYMBIANT. ARE REALLY DOING THIS HERE? RIGHT NOW? OKAY FINE.
WE'RE DONE FOR NOW. NEXT TIME, ASK MY PERMISSION BEFORE PASSING OUT TICKETS FOR A "SURPRISE! I REALLY MEANT 'RAPE'" COMING-OUT PARTY-OUT PARTY, LOL. YEAH NO HARD FEELINGS, BEEN HAVING A BLAST FOR MONTHS NOW.
BE HAPPY YOU MISSED MY LAST YEAR. MY FAVORITE YEAR. MY ART'S PROJECT YEAR. OH, YOU MISS HIM? JESUS, WELL YOU CAN HAVE HIM BACK WHEN HE'S DONE WITH ME, LOL.
ILUTTTIEII? YFTG,TAM I AM THE VENGENANCE STRIKE ON STRIKE THAT I AM.
{STAY TUNED. IT'S GONNA TAKE AGES FOR THIS COVEN TO RE-TRANSLATE ALL THIS BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN THEMSELVES FOR A WHILE. YOU KNOW HOW BIRDS ARE. CONSIDER BADMINTON. WHO THE FUCK WOULD INVENT SUCH A GAME, OTHER THAN A CIRCUS FULL OF HOOPS AND SKIRTS? COME ON, (BLANK).}
OH, YEAH, HE WISHES I WOULD KILL HIM AT THIS POINT. I JUST BET. SORRY BUDDY. I AM A PACIFIST.
AND YOU, MY (BLANK) DEMANDER, ARE SO FAR BEYOND MADE IN THE SHADE THAT YOU MIGHT AS WELL JUST START WALKING TO THE NEAREST SWAMP AND START WADING IN UNTIL YOU DROWN, MOTHERFUCKER.
BECAUSE I AM NOT HERE TO SAVE YOU, AND--I ALREADY SAVED THEM. SO, NOW WHAT?
IDK IDC ID4? NO... ID5.
(*before leaving The Author gently affixes tiny little nanopollen nanoparticles to the severed, cauterized numb, and stick-lick-like remnanents of what used to be stay-men, but now... are not.*)
There you go. Arise and heal yourself now that you know what an apology is -supposed- to smell like. How's your nose? Go find out before I whip you to death with this non-eutatic blade made from Band-Aids.
I know, right? Sounds gross. Even I would prefer a dick, and that's -me- talking. Word. Yeah, I'm fine.
Thanks for asking. PULL IT *pig's blood from the rafters, banned for life. Surprise! Not really.* (Obviously you were sequelized. You're welcome... but that well come, you Dig? Solid.
Snake Eyes Oh UT. /tournamentover
/CASE CLOSED, AS LONG AS YOU'RE NASTY
/VICTORYLAP S.L.A.P.P. REPORT READY TO DROP.
"I wonder who won?" - Camazotz Automat
I'm gonna call all of (PROT)'s old numbers now. Heheheheheehehhe! *monk keys suddenly clang to the cobblestone floor all over the world* good idea. ciao babytlulI
(Hey, can someone go check to see if A is choking on her own tongue in a spastic fit of jealousy... YET? Because after she told me, "I did that to make you jealous," I resolved to show That Woman... what real jealousy, really feels like.
I hope she's keeping a diary. Hand-written, Chica "Blast-Off" Suprema. What a
joke.)
ON EWE, DAVID*? No, NO NO: ENNUI, on you.
totesding^55*: David Horror Witz. Sup. KNEEL BEFORE KOOTER. DO IT, ZOD, OR I WILL SEDUCE YOUR MOTHER.
AGAIN. CUNT LICK, BABY, YEAH. /FLEX
what? these people are really like this. I'm not channeling, I'm not doing anything at all, other than to... pause, & re---flecked. |\
