Excuse me while I cross off Erebus' characters from my "Purnima Pisses People Off" List.

Aleeeeex! Come back! We need your warm and sweet characters!

Good lord, I hereby solemnly swear to lay off the sads for a bit, so the bar can recover before I sink it into the horrid depths of Grimdark. This is why I never, and should never, touch the My Little Pony characters, The Muppets, Sarah, Lotta, Tut-Tut, and Kirby.

Because it'll become horrible Grimdark. HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE GRIMDARK!

*puts on half-opera mask and proceeds to play organ music*

A GREAT FICTIONAL MAN HAS DIED TODAY

Manju Verma "The Unbreakable Blade"

1960-199x

Warrior, Butler, and Friend with no equal


"Death had to come to him with his body smashed, his eyes blinded, and his limbs broken or there would have been a fight."-Emperor A. A. A. Rashama

Manju Verma of the long standing Verma family that have served the royal family faithfully for countless generations, has died to today. Known for his valor in various border skirmeshes, and lauded for all but single-handedly holding Kāpa Pass from invaders. He is perhaps most remembered for his staunch devotion to the Lady Purnima, even in her exile.

"His funeral shall mark the first time in twelve years that all the Emporer's children will be present at the palace, in order to pay their respects."-Acharya Chhavi

It is assumed that the Lady Purnima's exile will be waived for the duration of the funeral, according to this statement.


Article by Stan Ligature, ZooNews




I grew oddly attached to to the character of Manju, and I'm kinda sad to seem him go. Well, that's one charater off my ever expanding roster.

M Sheep Headspace Shareholders Meeting

The man at the end of the table finished adjusting the sheep helmet over his head before leaning forward in his chair, gloved fingers steepled under his fake ceramic muzzle. "Well, lets bring this meeting to a start then. Thank you all for meeting me here under such short notice. No doubt your wondering just why I called you all here." He took this moment to dramatically look slowly around all those gathered, taking great pains to make his glasses and the painted M on the sheep helmet's forhead to glare menacingly under the  harsh light.

"Dude, where's the cake. I was told there would be cake."

"What? No, I never said-"

"If he gets cake, I'd better get some fucking booze! How else am I going to drown out your whining horseshit."

"...I do not whine!"

"And why are these lights so Goddamn bright?!! Tun them the fuck down, damnit!!"

The author sheepishly twiddled his fingers. "I-I thought they were kind of cool. It'd make this meeting seem all mysterious and sinister-Wait." He sprang forward in his chair to point towards Sister Alice accusingly. "You're blind! How can you even-"

A dour baritone voice cut him off with even tones that still managed to convey a sense of finality. "While I disagree with Sister Alice's language, I must agree that the lighting in here is bordering on ridiculous."

"Et tu, Father Squid?"

"Urm. I'm afraid so, this is really hurting my eyes." The cephalopodic priest rumbled under a visor splayed hand.

The author's muffled sigh was still audible. He slouched over the table in deafeat. "Fine. Your totally ruining the dramatic tension, I'll have you know!"

"We appreciate your sacrifice."

The harsh bearing lights above them abruptly switched off, plunging the room into darkness for a few moments before the room was filled with a soft light from identifyable source revealing a rather standard block shaped room.

"Really? This all you could come up with?"

"Well, I didn't think I was going to have to show the room so I just went with the first thing that popped into my head...It's not like you guys gave me any time to fancy it up a bit."

"Yes, you are rather slow, aren't you?"

"......Does anyone have anything to say that isn't a personal attack on my person?......Just..just put your hand down, February."

"I couldn't help but notice you seem to be having a little trouble staying in control here, mostly because I've been busy stifling my own laughter, and thought I might be able to give you a hand-"

"OOOH NO! OH FUCKING NO. You sit down and shut the fuck up. Goddamn vultures, I'm not out of the city for a week and they start coming out of the woodwork."

The shade faded out until it was only a light stain in the air in visible discomfort, and maybe a little fear of, Alice. "I didn't mean to step on any toes, madam-"

"Don't give me that bullshit while your getting your filthy juju hands all over my city! I know how your type operates you two faced smug sonuvabitch! You think you can pull one over on ME!! I CAN GODDMAN SEE YOU! I've been putting your kind back where they belong before you were even jizzed out of some demon's barbed COCK!! I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR SMUG SKULL OUT OUT OF THAT MASSIVE SHIT YOU CALL A FACE  AND BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH IT!!!"

*Bzzt*"Oh God! Get in the Alice handlers in here NOW!!"

--ROUGHLY TEN MINUTES LATER--

A notably disheveled author, a large crack running down his sheep mask, addresses those around the table who remain. "A-alright then, I think we're ready to reconvene now...The, uh, Professor has opted to skip out on the rest of the meeting, and Alice is currently in Time Out in the most secure container available. and, oh, all my papers are messed up now. Does anyone know where we left off?"

"You lost control of the meeting before we could even get that far." Dr. Albrecht elected to pipe in. "So I would like to get to examing the scripts, as you call them, for this season."

"T-that actually seems reasonable. Proceed, by all means."

"The short of it is that your behind on everything. Your all over the place and can't stick to one storyline so now they've ended up all over the place. Did we even ever find out what happened to that thing in the junkyard that ended up with some of Jonesy's blood?  What ever happened to the magical items stolen  during the church fire? And I'm sure Meatboy's phone number is sitting around somewhere...Regardles, your idiocy is normally tolerable, but now it's causing delays in my own work. Do your job."

"And there's that infamous Albrecht bedside manner. I think you'll find I'm leading up to something."

"Really, because I'm rapidly coming round to the opinion that your just making it up as you go along."

"I..UNF....YOU!....GAH! How dare you-"

"Baa.", the sheep seated at the author's left noted between a mouthfull of paper.

"What? No. I mean, I know you've been kind of been swept to the sidelines lately but-"

"Whoa. We have scripts?"

"Hmm, that's the question, isn't it?"

"Dr. Albrecht, that's quite enough. You've already voiced your..concerns over this season's script. Let's give the man a moment to answer, hm?"

"I^IIIIII I#IIIIIIII"

"See, now Mr. Blik has the right idea. Let's just-"

"IIII wwwwwaaannnnnnnnt aaa zzzzzzzzzztorrrrrrryyyyyllinnnnnnnne too!"

"Ugh. Go back to your corner, Beelzebub. Nobody likes you."

"Aaaaaaawww."

"And what about us, eh? You talked the boys up something fierce, but so far you've just left us to twist in the wind."

"Oh come on! You don't even have a text color yet!"

"Man, Squidface, how can you tolerate this three ring circus?"

"Patience, Mr. Fox, and my faith in God's plan. And the occasional cold one."

"I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this. This whole thing has been a giant waste of my time."

"I^IIIII III>#IIIIIIII"

"Ah! Sheep, please don't eat the script!"

"I appeared in one scene last season."

"Wow, uh, yea, Mr. Desmond really hasn't had more than one scene."

"TRULY ABOMINABLE!! THIS SCRIPT IS BARELY FIT TO WIPE MINE HINDQUARTERS WITH! NEVER HAVE I SEEEEEEEEEEEN SUCH A TRULY HACK JOB!! HOMER ROOOOOOOOOLLS IN HIS GRAAAVE!!!!"

"Inside voices, Dr. Grendel.."

"I APOLOGISE!! MY EMBARESSMENT IS TRULY IMMENSE!! I HAVE BROUGHT DISHONOUR TO THE HOSPITAL AND MY FELLOW DOCTORS, BOTH!!! OOOH, THE SHAAAAAAAAME!!!

"This is theatening to make me redundant."

The man a the end of the table clears his throat audibly, causing a deafening, tense silence to fall almost instantaneously. He adjusts his straw hat with great, casual silence before he speaks.

"Now, I'm sure Mr M. here has written a wonderful script. And I have great faith you folks can bring it to life. You guys'll do great. Last season was good, this one will be better. Okay? Now I'm going to turn thefloor back over to Mr. M"

"You are? I MEAN  thank you, sir."

The man tugs his hat with a suntanned smile in response. The donkey standing beside him twitches an ear.

"Well, uh, with those enheartening words, I bring this meeting to a close." The author bangs his gavel. Only to promptly throw it high into the air. "HAPPY NEW SEASON, EVERYONE!"

No Exit part 1: Rising Water

"My, my, my, another dear coming to pay me a visit. Why, it must be my birthday.”, a raspy voice croaked out, echoing, as a misshapen silhouette bobbed over to the occupied slab. Clever, long fingers wrapped around the clipboard laying gently atop the white sheet. "Ah, but where are my manners? What is your name, pet? Mmmh. Natalie Vinzant, female, age 38, human, history of insomnia and high blood pressure. Well, I have what you might call a bit of a hunch that a family history of high blood pressure isn't what brings you hear." His tortured spring of a back uncoiled smoothly, only to curl tightly into another pained helix as he leaned in closer to the slab. His lips cracked in his leathery face as he smiled in a co-conspiring manner. "Now you see, you're far from the first client I've had today. I've been noticing a bit of a trend among my clientele as of late."

Clipboard now thoroughly forgotten, those same clever fingers snaked up the white sheet to delicately pull down the flimsy barrier separating him from his quarry. "Now, now, no need to be shy.", he cooed as the sheet hit a snag, "You hold just as many wonderments to me as all of who've come before you...Come, come, now. We'll do it like a Band-Aid, quick, and you'll see there's nothing to have worried about."

At last he pulled fully back the sheet, revealing the woman's face. "There. See, nothing so bad after all. Why, look at what you've been hiding from me; those high cheek bones, that strong, Roman nose." An arm that had slowly been crawling towards the woman's face shuddered to an abrupt stop. "Ah, but there I go; forgive my enthusiasm." The figure shambled to the other end of the slab. "I shall, of course, leave the best for last."

His hands at last fell on her then, fingers crawling and darting about like insects, examining her feet far more intimately than any person ever had while she was still living. "We shall simply start at one end, and work our way to the other.", he stated with an academic nod.

And it certainly didn't take him long to find something.

A sharp intake of breath rang out. "Ohhhhhh...Oh, my. You spoil me, my dear. We've but only just begun, and you greet me with this." As twisted as his body was, the man's fingers displayed all the flexibility of an insect's antennae as they weaved in, out, and around the contours of toes.

"Ah, beauty, beauty!", he choked in rapturous tones. "I know these toes. Such strength, such form...Clever and worn, yes, but also abused." The skin of his long index finger contrasted harshly with the smooth, mellow dark of her skin even in the lowlight gloom clinging to the room. Covered in blisters, warts, and bumps, it had all the appearance of a half melted candle as he ran it down her sole. "Fractures kissed ever so lightly up and down here once. You pounded them in so diligently, such a hard worker. Yes, a dancer you were, poppet. Oh, and you worked so hard, yes, yes, I see it. It was no mere passing interest, no, a blinding passion." The man's bizarre soliloquy halted to a stop. He lurched back to the head of the slab, bones creaking as he leaned down until his face was parallel to to hers. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it tenderly behind her ear as he rasped, "I can relate."

"But now what's this, I wonder?" He punctuated his query with a particularly enthusiastic squeeze of her thigh. He murmured to himself for a moment while his groping became increasingly more intimate. "Hmmm...Ah! Yes, I see it, the missing piece of the puzzle! You see, I've been asking myself just why I'm examining a reporter today instead of a dancer." He limped over to a desk adjacent to the slab and began to rifle through it. "Feel free to tell me if you've heard this one before." His voice stayed surprisingly even, even has his rifling became more frantic. "There's this ballet dancer, see, a little young, a little rough around the edges. But she's good, not great, but good." The man suddenly paused, any transition from his prior frantic state jarringly nonexistent. "But then, then, tragedy strikes." He jerked back around and began stumbling back over to the slab. With each step he became more increasingly animate, flailing his arms about as his speech quickened and ran together to be nearly incomprehensible.

"The girls dreams lay out before her. She can hardly be blamed for trying to cut a few corners off the travel time. She can hardly be blamed at all with the way the world was dangling her goal in front of her. The girl gets cast a role in the new production. By no means the lead, but certainly a good part for a little unknown like her. Practice, practice, you certainly took those words to heart. Un, deu, troix! Un, deu, troix! Again, again, you cried. Your partner at his poor wits end. Exhausted. Desperate for a break. He can hardly be blamed. Such a ruthless taskmaster. Again, again! You jump. You fly. Majestic in vision. Awesome in form. Synaptic firing. Burning. A brilliant cavalcade of white-hot light expressing more coherency in less than a second than a poet's whole life. Muscles taunt but flexible enough to be played a trill with Devilish fingers. So much red meat pulsing with steaming life pumped by a frantic heart. But mind proves master to meat as controlled breath plays puppet with the body. Bones grinding, Limbic acid burning. Only for a moment, the melded art of form and functionality forever remaining ephemeral. But then."

He threw his disfigured hand to his oily brow in one well practiced motion, his eyes hidden melodramtically behind his fingers. "You fall. You're partner too slow, too late. You hit the floor. Hard. And then your dreams die." His other hand rose then, revealing a scalpel in its waxy grasp. In one fluid motion, he sliced the woman's leg down to the bone. He splayed the fingers on his face and looked down, a coy smile forming around his bloody gums. "And there's the break. Looks just as fresh as when it happened. You age well, my dear. I-"

*Brrrrrring*

"..How rude. To break up this valuable time we have togethe-"

*Brrrrrrrring*

"Oh, very well..Dr. February speaking."

"Good. You've had ample time to give the new check-ins a once over. Your report."

"Dr. Albrecht. Always a pleasure to here from the big cheese wheel himself."

"I really don't have time for your asinine attempts at conversation. Report your findings immediately.

"Patience is a virtue, doctor."

"I'm about out of spyrochete-ing patience. I have a hospital in crisis to run, February. Report. Now."

"Well, if you simply must. One moment." The ghoulish man turned around towards the slab, quickly running a bulbous eye up and down its contents. "Yes, I can now for certainty say that they’re the same as the last. Each dead from massive, and frankly a bit messy, spontaneous internal hemorrhaging.

"I figured as much...You know we could really use as many hands up here as possible, February."

"Ah, ah, ah, Al. The terms of my hiring were very specific. I've learned all I can from the living, only the dead contain what I seek. Ta."

---

"Useless." Dr. Albrecht growled as he hang up the phone. He turned back towards those seated around the table before him. "Now, where were we?"


(THIS GUY...He never shuts up. Had to shoe-horn the call, the actual important part in. Also, this guy has really distracting speech mannerisms. Ugh, this is so late...I meant to have this done much sooner. More to come.)

WHaT I dId OvER MY Summer vacation

-JAN 1,

Dear Diary,

Happy New Year! The annual complex party was BAWS, I vomited eggnog EVERYWHERE! Yeah, Ern didn't really like that....But even he couldn't stay mad with the spread Gran put out. I've never heard of ANYONE who can resist her cooking. dude, I don't even know how that much food can come out of one kitchen

new theory: Gran is actually a Time Lord and the kitchen is her TARDIS.

Even Roomie seems, dare I say it, HAPPY today. or at least I haven't heard him groan or moan all day.


-JAN 3,

Dear Diary,

Saw the Spider Sisters talking to Gran this evening. God, couldn't they have talked to her at a reasonable hour? They creep me the fuck out, and I don't like them being all alone with Gran like that, even if it is just to rent another room.

Geez, that's the whole third floor they've bought out now for their bug collection.


-JAN 12,

Dear Diary,

Ugh. Roomie's poetry club starts up again today. Why do they have to meet here?!

Just kill me now.


-JAN 13,

Dear Diary,

How hard is it to use a Goddamn coaster?! That table was teak, damnit!


-JAN 17,

Dear Diary,

SHOPPING LIST, NOTE TO SELF:
-bread
-eggs
-breaded eggs
-coffee
-carrot sticks
-Belvarian clam jelly
- banana guacomole
-energon
-eye of newt
-pipe cleaner
-oranges
-crow
-lean cut of horsemeat
-2x blue rubies
-18lbs tapioca pudding
-toilet paper


-JAN 28,

Dear Diary,

Work is haaaaaaard. Why can't any hot girls work in my departmet. They're all in IT, s'not fair.


-FEB 2,

Dear Diary,

Roomies going on about existential angst and the stifling of the creative mind again. Seriously contemplating blugeoning him to death with my cereal spoon. If only it wouldn't leave such a huge mess for Ern to clean up. 'cuz it might make him start leaving alligators in the bathtub again.


-FEB 16,

Dear Diary,

Saw a goat today. Kinda wierd to see one in the dimension of coke and glass.


-FEB 22,

Dear Diary,

I got to hang out with the coolest of coolest bros, and my best friend, SHUMA GORATH!!!!!!!

he kinda ragged on the Bar the whole time though. Kinda a downer. But Still! Allways a totally awesome day to see him.


note: cancel tennis practice tomorrow. You can't play with one eye, silly! That's what you get for being an idiot and questioning Shuma Gorath~     idiot idiot stupid pig hog idiot why can't you do anything right

Ugh, Roomie's drunk up all the coffee again. I hate when he does that, he knows I need it when i hafta work late! I even made five pots. Dude's, like, addicted or sumpthin.


-MARCH 4,

Dear Diary,

Dusted hat collection. I think I'll wear my favorite hat today. Sine gave it to me! That's what makes it my favorite!


-MARCH 17

Dear Diary,

I do not know what to do. I do not want to hate Sine. But everyone is saying she is a bad person, and I thought we got rid of the bad person in Sine so she was good now, but everyone says she is bad.

But she's not a bad person! She gave me a hat, and bad people do not give me hats!

But I didn't say that. Beacuse I didn't want Jonesy to hate me and I didn't want them to get mad and call me bad person and hate me

Because I'm stupid, and can't think for myself, I can't do anything right I'm sorry SineJonesy You SWINE PIG! USELESS HANGER-ON PARASITE! Where do YOU get off on judging others when youre so SHALLOW just go with the crowd WORTHLESS


-April 1,

Dear Diary,

APRIL FOOLS!~

I made you think I was going to write in you, BUT THEN I DIDN'T!!!!!!!!!1!!!111!






im lonely.


-April 7,

Dear Diary,

I should do something nice for Jonesy. She just got out of the hospital and people made of flesh are so fragile. I bet those mean paparazzi are already pestering her again and making her feel even worse.

I got it!~

I will make them all go away and then everyone will be happy again.

And then I'll have cake because cake is totally awesome.



-----

---ROUGHLY AN HOUR LATER, JONESY'S PRIVATE MESSAGING INBOX---

HELLO, JONESY. YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE!

Message sent by: LightHospital.sever/privateline

Contents of message: "Mrs. Svilzerian, would you care to explain to me why a growing total of thirty men and women have entered my hospital with no common connection; other than being in critical condition via internal trauma, a career in journalism, and having at some point worked on a news item about you and/or your husband? A prompt answer would be most appreciated, as it is quickly growing tiresome to keep this information from going public."

PLEASEDONOTATTWMPTTOADJUSTYOURTELEVISIONSET

DONOTPANIC. PLEASE LEAVE YOUR MINDS IN THE UPRIGHT OPEN POSITION UNTIL NORMAL SANITY IS RESUMED.

LIES BEGIN AND END WITH THOUGHT. THEREFORE, ONE MAY THEORISE THAT IF WE TRULY WERE CREATED BY A PERSONAL GOD OF DIVINE APATHIA, DIVINE ATHAMBIA, DIVINE APHASIA, WHO LOVES US DEARLY, AS POSTULALTED BY PUNCHER AND WATTMAN, FOR REASONS UNKNOWN, OVER AND OVER THE ROILING WAVES I SAW A FISHWIFE, WILD AND FAIR. SHE SAT PRIMLY ON A ROCK, COMBING PEARLS FROM HER HAIR. SHE FLASHED US A COQUETTISH GRIN, AND ALL OUR HEARTS DID FLUTTER. OH IF BUT WE’D ONLY KNOWN, THE GRIN WAS FOR HER SUPPER AND SPORTS OF ALL KINDS SUCH AS JOGGING, SKIING, ROWING, SKATING, BOWLING, PARAGLIDING, CLIMBING, CRICKET GAMES OF ALL SORTS, BALLOONING, GRAPPLING, DANCING, RIDING, FISHING, HUNTING, DIVING, RACING, THROWING, DYING, SAILING, PARACHUTING, AND TIDDLYWINKS.

I RESUME, FOR REASONS UNKNOWN. IF ONE TAKES A GLASS OF WATER AND POURS THE WATER INTO ANOTHER GLASS AND THEN INTO ANOTHER GLASS, IS IT STILL THE SAME GLASS OF WATER? TAKING THE ABOVE MENTIONED EVIDENCE INTO ACCOUNT, ONE CAN ONLY COME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT ALL CATS HAVE THREE NAMES. ONE THAT THEY USE, ONE THAT WE CALL THEM, AND ONE KNOWN ONLY TO THEMSELVES. OH WELL I NEVER, HAS THERE EVER BEEN A CAT SO CLEVER AS, SineQUID, EVENTUALLY YOU'VE GOT TO ASK YOUR SELF, "IS IT THEM OR IS IT ME?", WHEN EVERYONE DIES AROUND YOU, AS POSTULATED BY POSSEY OF TESTOW AND THE BOAT OF STONES, LEFT UNFINISHED, WITH WHITE BEARD, THAT MAN IN WHOLE, MAN IN BRIEF WASTES AND PINES, AND WASTES AND PINES! WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO BE A PEPPER TOO? FIRST RULE ABOUT FITE CLUB, DON'T TALK ABOUT FITE CLUB AS THE BATTLE OF IDEALISM VERSUS CYNICISM CONTINUES THE FITE AGAINST THE EVIL DECEPTICONS AND YOU TOO COULD LOSE WEIGHT WITH THE EREBUS DIET AND WORKOUT PLAN, YOURS FOR ONLY THREE EASY PAYMENTS OF YOUR SENSE OF INDIVIDUALITY!

BUT SELDOM ADRESSED ARE THE SIDE EFFECTS OF BLEED OVEREXPOSURE, SineARAH, WHEN I WIN THE LOTTERY, I'M GOING TO TRIDENLAND OFFERS GREAT GROUP RATES AND MAKES A GREAT SPOT FOR ANY COMPANY GETAWAY AND YOUR CORRUPT CORPORATE EXECUTIVE. WE'RE JUST ONE VORPCALL AWAY, PEOPLE ARE STANDING BY TO TAKE YOUR CALL.

JUST WHEN I THINK I'M OUT, THEY PUT ME BACK IN! BUT I RESUME, FINISH HIM! OLD DOGS HAVE MORE DIGNITY. THE TRUTH IS, YOU CAN'T DRIVE SUCH CREATURES AWAY. THE BEST THING WOULD BE TO KILL THEM WITH FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC. DEAR CELESTIA, TODAY I LEARNED THAT NATURES DO NOT ULTIMATLEY CHANGE. SUBJECT 28, FUCK 'EM, HAVE A BURGER. THE ALL SOLVING HAMMER WILL BREAK, BECAUSE WE BUILT THIS CITY ON ROCK AND ROLL.

BRINGING YOU THE FUTURE, TODAY! THIS JUST IN, REPENT, REPENT, THE END TIMES ARE HERE. JINGLE, JINGLE, NO ONE LISTENS, EVERYONE SPEAKS, BUT DOES NOT LISTEN A LOAF OF BREAD IS TOAST IN WARPFIRE AND DAMNATION, ONE NATION, UNDER GOD, INADVISABLE, WITH SLAVERY AND INJUSTICE FOR ALL.

IT'S TIME TO PLAY THE MUSIC. IT'S TIME TO LIGHT THE LIGHTS. IT'S TIME TO MEET THE MUPPETS.

THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRIEND BUT I'M SHAKEN, NOT STIRRED.

what exists beyond the walls. an empty room, a room without lamps, faucets, outlets, rugs, refridgeraters, couches, chairs, telephone cords, tables, pipes, lights, shelves, cabinets, clocks, candles, boxes, cases, baskets, pillows, cusions, blankets, beds, trashcans, desks, toilets, windows, doors, beams, furnace, fans, televisons, speakers, books, doilies, quilts, racks,

I MAGINE THAT. IN YOUR DREAMS.

Jobs Sister Alice should never ever EVER have

--Commedian--

"-at's when I realized I was wearing her bra! A bada-bum, you get that dipshits? Yeah, I see that guy in third row knows what I'm talking about, the pervert! I can smell you getting hot and bothered from here. The Hell kind of stuff you get off to, Grannys Gone Wi-"

"BOO! You suck!"

"...Excuse me. Did you just interrupt me? Are you heckling me? Shut up! It was a retorical question, numbnuts. Do you get your jollies off of heckling old ladies? Does it make you feel big? Does it fill the void of your monotonous nine to five job? Does it make those hours for you sitting glass eyed and slackjawed at a computer screen regretting you never went for that degree easier? But you know, really, why you never got that degree. You could have gotten it if you applied yourself, but you were too busy chasing skirts. You bagged and tagged yourself a college sweetheart alright, but youg love tends sour so quickly, doesn't?

"You hate her and can't but help to to see her face attributed to your failures, and you know it's wrong and hate yourself for it. The only joy in your life is fantasizing about the sweet young thing your boss has hired on as his secretary. You dream of steamy encounters in the copy room, and everyday, you work yourself up to ask her out. But you don't. And you never will. Now quit your blubbering and get the fuck out of my auditorium.

".....Wasn't that juicy stuff audience? Seeing as I seem to have overstayed my welcome, hows about a little histroy trivia. In Ye Days of Olde and Shite, jesters were the only ones who could tell the King and Queen the truth without fear of execution. Usually."



--Kids' TV Show Personality--

"Hey kids, today we're going to learn about the letter 'F'."


--Charity Event Organiser--

"...The fuck is this? Two hundred bucks? I wouldn't wipe wipe my ass with your two hundred bucks. I don't think you quite understand the scope of things there. You see that. That's a motherfucking panda. It's cute and adorable and the national symbol of China. You wanna be the fucker who goes down in history as a mass panda murdering sociopath. You wanna be remmebered as the guy rememberd by kids as 'Mom, wy aren't there any pandas anymore', except he'd say it sounding way more diseased sounding because kids are fucking disgusting, and then the Mom'd go 'Oh I'm sorry honey but this fucker killed 'em all!' Is that what you want? You are going to give until it hu-THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING?! DONATE OR I'LL RIP YOUR GODDAMN THROAT OUT WITH MY TEETH!....A wise choice, sir. You an' me, we are going to save some mother fucking pandas."

--Walmart Greeter--

"Welcome to Walmart, get your shit and get out........................God, I hate Walmart."