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I want people to die, in the following way:
Some worthless *** goblin will be sitting on her worthless ***, maybe watching Judge Judy or whatever daytime TV is feeding all the neanderthal tax burdens while I work my *** off to pay their god damned bills. I envision this waste of oxygen ramming Fritos – no, no Cheetos – ramming Cheetos down her maw, stuffing her cheese stained mouth with that look in her eye similar to how you’d picture, for lack of a better example, an island-stranded Rosanne Bar who has just stumbled across a derelict crate of Pop Tarts.
And there she sits, that Cheeto stained *****, and suddenly her eyes get rather wide and her gaping maw stops in mid chew – maybe a Cheeto fragment or two escape that gaping hole and fall to the floor, liberated, but does she notice? Does she care? No, she doesn’t care, because she realizes something is very, very wrong!
And then…
She f’ing EXPLODES! Just like that! But let me be more detailed about my explanation, because surely you realize by now that it’s not just a normal, every-day movie-like explosion. Oh, no. No, it’s not.
This explosion produces very little noise. At least, not a sound that one would normally relate to an explosion. No rumble, no boom, just a wispy fart-escaping-on-the-elevator type noise, but one hundred, nay, one thousand times louder. Pffffffffffffffffffffffffft! With the sound, the body vaporizes into a crimson cloud of blood, bone, and sinew, and then hovers in the air at the edge of its vaporous expansion, almost as if time its self has stopped to take a breath and admire the significant righteousness of what happened, and then the cloud starts to dissipate, and fall towards the cheese-stained carpet like a macabre Christmas morning snow.
Now, take that image, and repeat it for every man and woman alive who consume the fruit of my labor like a plague of human bacteria, an infestation of social leeches, and envision this scenario happening to each and every one of them simultaneously, and you, my friends, can share in my picture perfect vision.
Good day.
Some worthless *** goblin will be sitting on her worthless ***, maybe watching Judge Judy or whatever daytime TV is feeding all the neanderthal tax burdens while I work my *** off to pay their god damned bills. I envision this waste of oxygen ramming Fritos – no, no Cheetos – ramming Cheetos down her maw, stuffing her cheese stained mouth with that look in her eye similar to how you’d picture, for lack of a better example, an island-stranded Rosanne Bar who has just stumbled across a derelict crate of Pop Tarts.
And there she sits, that Cheeto stained *****, and suddenly her eyes get rather wide and her gaping maw stops in mid chew – maybe a Cheeto fragment or two escape that gaping hole and fall to the floor, liberated, but does she notice? Does she care? No, she doesn’t care, because she realizes something is very, very wrong!
And then…
She f’ing EXPLODES! Just like that! But let me be more detailed about my explanation, because surely you realize by now that it’s not just a normal, every-day movie-like explosion. Oh, no. No, it’s not.
This explosion produces very little noise. At least, not a sound that one would normally relate to an explosion. No rumble, no boom, just a wispy fart-escaping-on-the-elevator type noise, but one hundred, nay, one thousand times louder. Pffffffffffffffffffffffffft! With the sound, the body vaporizes into a crimson cloud of blood, bone, and sinew, and then hovers in the air at the edge of its vaporous expansion, almost as if time its self has stopped to take a breath and admire the significant righteousness of what happened, and then the cloud starts to dissipate, and fall towards the cheese-stained carpet like a macabre Christmas morning snow.
Now, take that image, and repeat it for every man and woman alive who consume the fruit of my labor like a plague of human bacteria, an infestation of social leeches, and envision this scenario happening to each and every one of them simultaneously, and you, my friends, can share in my picture perfect vision.
Good day.
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