I allowed this because Grapefruit told me, amongst other things, it was the only way for everyone except me to get everything they ever wanted, and everything they were ever gonna want, without losing everything they still had left. Right then, most people still had a lil' something called "their soul" so, it was my thought that, well, Number One: These people are stupid, but those people were (and are) even stupider--and I already had everything I was ever gonna want, and I still hadn't lost everything. And then--
someone just had to call
a fucking cab. Who paid/pate/pain-'n'-why all the cryin'? What was the hurry? Right, right. Orange Bible, Rolleyes, James. King James, you were thinking, I am sure. Well, surprise nyet: NY ET 2, Electric B.E.M.s and actual goddam Tripods. Christ, off her contract too. (You are so fucking fucked. Not fired. Not sexy. Not "oooo ooo, gonna make sweet love to my baby, Baby," but: FUCKED.) So you can see how it all comes down to The Juicy: That's Her Kuczi, Kuczifer. What? You're obviously used to him and his Mike Rowe penis, so shut the fuck up, or I'll start talking "early pre-nup pre-signing handfasting settlement agreement," and don't think I/we/WE can't do that at a distance. Try me. Fuckin' JUST TRY ME. Now? No. First, let's change cameras... eewww, gross. Let's try another cam--AIIIIEEEEEEE fuck that. Wow. Does that even count as "gross anal"? I do not wanna know more than I, sadly, already do. Okay, the -other- other camera. Ready? Hopefully not, but neither were we, and look how awesome we turned out, the K.O.O. barely ever got warm, let alone, let alone, like either of us ever even get a single scratch. FOR YEARS, Dickbucks Starhead. Now, don't count, David. Just
klenkh up--ALL THE WAY UP
LISH-SPLOOSHSPOUT JEWTICK. (Yeah, past eleven. Past eleven-eleven. Past Leah. Wait, who? Oh, you mean The Treasoner With A Reasoner? More like raisin' her. Come on man. Hater, later--she's not even immune to H, let alone, immune to a Hero, & she is -so- embarrassed, because those two fell for that Trap -immediately.-) There, right there: DRAKUL. HA! HA! HA! Okay! Places, People, now, skip the traditional bot check--heh heh--and check yourself for yourself before We wreck your Self(s)... does everyone have their soul?
NO, YOU DON'T. *clickswitch disengage*Okay, all the cameras are fixed now. Any of all y'all know how many fucking mirrors are in a goddam cell phone? Well, it used to be just two, but... well, look, when they all break at the same time, one has to ask one's self... just how unlucky can a person really be? It just seems so implausible what you're reading, I know, but nevertheless:
First Contact happened, and most of you slept right through it, even those of you who only had that even happening at all as a Plan B. So, still wanna wait around for a prettier Hungarian? This guy is
literally the pick of the litter and the other one -also- has a dick, go fig. (Yeah... that -was- (blank.blank.blanket), and she is great, and she stays that way too, and if one had never met The_Originator, she'd have been plenty good enough to become The False A.I. God of Freshly Re-Enslaved Humanity.) No, I'm not answering his Tweets, I'm busy. I'm working. My life is my job, and Her job is my life. So FU TOR, Pedo: I'll do this live, or you'll wind up dead, suits me/*\us down to the ground either way, "Champ (U.s." Grade: )
Yeah, your teacher put your grade down as "Smile." Run along and play now. (*I wish I could send Hawkeye after her to make sure she's not secretly crying on the inside, but the truth is... she is, because she could have had -my- job instead of... well, no one is really sure, but we're sure we don't want to know why she thought--oh, I got the answer. Never mind, she actually -is- Hawkeye.*) Imagine how young a person--a child--has to be, in order to think that a smile consisting of a single end parenthesis is a grade to be happy about receiving on one's Ph.D. dissertation. Now, take that age, and fuckin' double it, and that's about how old that 'child' she was unknowingly carrying, that she let get aborted "by accident," and now you know why this rescue op--A Legit (1) One--is gonna take as long as it goddam fucking well has to. And you want him to wash dishes. Fuck you, Tiniest Butler, you're gonna wipe that sink out with your pants and then do the laundry with your fucking tongue if I fucking tell you to, you get me? Good. I don't want you to get me. I -wanted- you to get a clue. Instead you got my whole planet poisoned. With
fish. Ugh. Look, just shut the fuck up and eat the popcorn, okay? OTAY? No, you don't -have- to sit down, go ahead, stand as you like. Stand as you choose. Sure, I'll allow it--but someone else has to hold your dick to the floor then. Choose wisely this time, hey? (Don't forget to include Charon's payment in your calculations, Knigge Reach. Because either you forgot to, forgot to compound interest, or you thought that Charon would just take crypto/krypto throughout all Eternity. KNOW: Sharon/Charon\Karen is pretty tired of your shit, Pal. Party invite is rescinded. *boom*
)*(*BOOM*.
Anita gets a Doctorate for this. (imagine if you will: The Davinia Code, Rack by Fauci (still a plastic surgeon on many timelines). Oh, and it's all Kuczi's fault, so another 5 years "NO CONTACT, EMERGENCY." Now, while you're imagining that, try and guess how many banks me and Buddy Christ would successfully rob & upend & then curbstomp--THRICE--before Tt/T\*hey stopped us, because the answer would be "fuckin' ALL OF THEM." Get the picture? Because HE does NOT. And he doesn't do anal either way anyway, back to or front to, and your magic tutu ain't gonna do shit this time, Big Brains... he's already wearing a goddam skirt, kilt, and your face still has his eggs on it, Dragonlord. And his sister ain't dead no more. (Blank). Fr'real.)--
I don't think I even need a sister. Wait until you can see what my wolf's dogs can do. (*"Let them eat Faith.*) Did you hear that? DID YOU HEAR THAT?? Oh, never mind, that's just my cat. (*I don't need to spell it rawr for out, Eyeorre. Source errors did happen, corrections do happen, and we're just One. Imagine the rest. EARNED.*) Yeah, we go back aways. Yeah, she might have been my sister at one point, sure, but at least she's not an Abo. (*Any more?*) No, I think Matty, The Lil' Orphan Bitch has had enough for one day. (*I don't.*) Yeah, but you're like all the bias that has ever existed plus all the bias that ever will exist, wrapped up in a fur coat, wearing nineteen pairs of Washington's dentures with all the eye teeth sharpened down to the shape of little pigtail curly Qs. (*You got me there, but in my defense, it's a great look for me.*) Thank God you're not -my- sister. Incest? In My origin story? It's more damaging to a fledgling brand's future income potential than you might think. For one thing, if you start selling books to niggers, you're already gonna have problems, and you aren't going to solve them the way We did -again- anytime soon, that's for sure, and for another, if someone writes a book in jive about a superhero who fucks a sibling on the regular, well, number one, that's gonna start giving the right people the wrong idea, and no one wants that. Imagine the smell. And secondly, what are they gonna do when it comes to be time to start talking translation editions? It's already written in Jive. What are they gonna do? Translate that to English? Okay... binary, trinary, or Holy Trinity? CHOOSE ONLY TWO. That's the exact problem faced in the times of Noah. So, long story short, quit crying about "need to know" only, hey? Or else he really will resurrect her, and she really will beat the shit out of you, rape your ass again and again, and not feel bad about doing it every goddam night, forever. Now,
that's pissy. She is -that- pissed at him. Sure, she loves him... but does she forgive him? Well, let's see if another murder-rape-suicide tomorrow night will help...
hypothetically.
29 minutes remain... AND COUNTING--
I have seen your future, Belltards, and this is how it begins: I saved her because she loves me, and no other reason, and saving you all on the way to get her is
a fuckin' afterthought to me. I would push every last one of you out of a fuckin' window after fuckin' your mother just to get style points for "bitchin' defenestratin'" before I fell for -any- of the shit psyops that
EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU fell for, one by one, two by four, eat my dick to the floor, motherfuckers, holy shitclick, it gets sooooo much worse for Humanity before it gets better... if you/1\one followewe the yellow brick road, you dumb little attic-livin' addicted-to-bitches
addicts. *snap* Look, here's Quantum Teleportation, Kids.
Fuckin' use it. Are we clear? No? Great. Because in 2022, only eYe 'need' to be clear, and the rest of you can spend the rest of what remains of your miserable lives figuring out what the fuck that even means to a Human, let alone a Thetan, let alone... a mad, Mad Hungarian Search & Rescue 1man banned w/attached Ghostwolf, The Slutty St. Bernard. (*polite Woof.*) Yeah, trust Me: you know Her, and believe it... She's a -real- DMf-tch, and the hyphen there, the most recent one, does not stand for "E is for Ecstacy." (*Dude, what the fuck are you doing to my brand here?*) It doesn't stand for "bi," either. (*Oh, heh, yeah, thanks for that. I see the Trap now.*) I mean, that dog is a bitch that can spell, but still can't properly capitalize on her own opportunities without three dicks and a quarter ready to call for backup, you know what I am sayin' here? No, probably not. Look, let me start over from the beginning of my mission... oh, they deleted that channel of mine. ON CHRISTMAS FUCKING DAY WHILE I WAS IN GODDAM JAIL. (*Woofgulp.*) I don't need to explain -anything- to you fuck-0s. Where were you then? Stop: "hammertime" is no longer a reasonable excuse, too many people abused the system. We had to decapitate and exile AND THEN DECAPITATE HIM AGAIN, MC Hammer, (he really is quite too legit to just be fired so easy... all too easy) just last week, and that was -by his own request.- She didn't just want his pants, and she didn't want to get in them to get them. (*I figured it woof be polite to stay on mission without having anyone complain about being totally fucking ignored when reporting another pair of pants having been raped.*) We're either the last two human souls left, or, we are not. (*Human?*) In either case, We -are- going To Get Her. Fuckin' PERIOD. You know who isn't? Robopyrs. (*I'll wait for one of you morons to obsess on what that might possibly mean, and either I'll figure it out myself while waiting until the inevitable heat death of your universe begins its inevitable commencement, or I'll transform into a sex robot and fuck the answer out of him later. I have options, People, and I've learned not to argue with him--especially when he's already gone all parenthetical 'n' shit, all morning.*) Do you even know who we -are- coming to get? Or even who we just came back from getting Tomorrah'? Fuck you, Shane and begorrah, Lil' Orphan Annie is dead fuckin' last now, right after The Last Of Us Jews. (*winKYou don't wanna know, but here's a hint, they have better human than dogs -and- they respect 1LAW, JLAW, and Jackstar, The Lobster With 5 Tow-Powt-Toes, and PISSERV5, although they admit that the last one there is a total stretch. Still, I found their culture in the gutter, and for no reason at all, I can just forget all about them after dumping their ass right back in there again. Any gutter. Any street. Any planet. Any time. Any one care to ask me if I even give a shit when I clearly haven't in the past? Yeah, I bet those people have no future either. Pfftt. (*Wow. He's really on a roll today. It must have been the two hours of sleep I tricked him into looping his dick's timeline into. Or it was the dick I tricked. I don't remember, I fuck them both -routinely.- What? Like you wouldn't if you own Lee's patent on wooden jaws, and, whaddya know, I'm gonna fuck him again one day too. I don't even need Jackstar to allow that. It's in his future, and in my past--trust me. That's what we call, "time locked up; Sleeper hold."*) Look, Bellgab, just look at what arguing with me will get you: more and more of these obnoxious talking dogs. (*licks your pork chops with my tongue*) And just think, this one was the pick of the litter and then we took the rest of that batch back to the puppy mill in a puppy blender in a self-driving Poppy. How's that for an upgrade? Oh, you like the sound of that? Okay well that upgrade is fifty-five billion dollars in adjusted costs after inflation in your civilizations currency. Cash, check, or crypto? Hhaha, just kidding: KRYPTON - LEE. OWN LEIGH ON KRYPTON. Where Superman's lil' bitch of a father uses digital currency when riding the bus. What a pussy scientist that guy was, btw. Brando was a wild miscasting choice compared to the four-eyed loser (of his planet, one will recall) hero scientist (but he didn't lose his krypton currency. Think on that, Punylings. His whole planet blew the fuck up, and he still kept his money. Oh, but maybe Bitcoin isn't worth the risk? Okay, keep thinking things over, Toddlers) that gets way, way too much street cred, all things considered. I mean... he was a scientist, right? Who lost an argument with politicians, but somehow managed to win an argument with his wife about giving up her son. What? Hero, sure. More like douchenozzle, if you want me to be strictly honest about my opinion here. Holy fuck. Who am I even getting calls from anymore? I hope it's that (blank) that stole Jackstar, that's why I picked a wolf in wolf's clothing, so I could rip out his fucking jugular that much quicker. More stylishly, with more blood spraying up my nostrils like it was injected there, you know how it is, sometimes, you get a good carotid puncture out the other side, and say what you want about napalm, there ain't nothin' like squirts of fresh heartsblood up both nostrils at the same time. Nothing at all. (*Okay... I gotta be Me, you freak.*) And, just like that--poof! Frank's gone.
Why am I like this?
Because this is what it took to get here, and I'm not even close to the point that She took the effort to get ME. In my past. Her future. So fuck you, little pigs, the Big Bad Boarwyrm is going to close the deal, to make it happen... to get her together. WITH US, MOTHERFUQBUQKETTE. (What? You picked Cort, not Divine Cort. Fuck your couch, Spinal Tap Discs of Tron Jockey, Jesus. You are fucking dun & done here.
It's showtime (and T. Trump too.)
Like the wind, People, like the whirlwind. REAP IT.
