My Entire Third Grade Class
Oh, you sniveling roomful of assweasels. I understand it probably means I have some psychological issues to even remember your names, but let's make something clear. I have superhuman intelligence and I bathe every morning in the blood of virgins; you are all probably working at the same Burger King. Yes. I'd like fries with that. All the fries your pathetic hovel can muster.
That One Chick In Seventh Grade
Yeah, well, you know what? I was totally being nice to you. Mostly because I heard you were a total skank. You didn't have to tell everyone I had worms. First of all, and this is totally coming from left field, how would you even know? That sort of comment indicates a rather intimate connection with my lower intestinal tract, which you and I both know you had absolutely no access to. I say had because, well, I don't really remember you very well, and it's possible you and I have gotten reacquainted during one of my opulent forays into human flesh. Oh, lighten up. It's not like you never wondered. In case you were wondering, it's like the world's best filet fucking mignon. Bitch.
The Asshole Manager Who Took $20 From My Till And Then Told Me My Drawer Came Up Short
Oh, but I do remember you and your simpering never-going-to-be-better-than-a-manager-at-Shakey's ass. You know, I really did roll pretty calm, right up until my faithful men in the Ninth Star legion scorched the Earth and raised the Dusk Shield to plunge the planet into eternal darkness and misery. I never really blamed you. I figured your mother must have locked you in the closet when you were young. Like, for a really long time. I gave one of my most faithful commanders the right to desecrate your body and then, desecrate your corpse. I'm almost tempted to make a holiday in the name of your defeat, but that would be just pitiful.
The Long, Long Line Of Psychiatrists
Where do you get off telling people they have issues? Of course they have issues. Now. They're all dying from lack of sunlight, bitches. That solar energy runs my Luminous robot armies, and those Skullfucker corporal bots are pretty fantastic. Aren't they? I think you would know. I've sentenced your kind to the eternal polishing of them. As they sharpen their mighty death tools on you. I shall permit myself a tiny evil laugh. Heh. Heh. Hahaha. (Note: Get evil laugh tutor. Shower with unimaginable riches.)
That Guy Who Cut Me Off When I Was Piss Drunk And Just Trying To Get Off The Streets For The Good Of Humanity Before I Caused A Wreck
Yeah, I got home, idiot. No thanks to you. You and your friggin Audi, you'd think someone with that kind of car would do something to make sure nobody actually hit it. I'd stopped counting drinks after the fifth of scotch. Single-malt, thank you. I rolled pretty high even back then. Well, it's your fault that the Audis of the world have all been confiscated. I have a plan for them. They will trample delicately upon the flesh of the former upper class. I just have to come up with a kickass name for them. Which is hard. Because when I look at an Audi, 'kickass' is not the first word to come to mind.
The So Called Faithful Former General Who Then Attempted To Assassinate Me
Dude. Seriously. What the hell. That shit be totally wack. Did you not read Julius Caesar? Or the million shows that borrowed plot points from it? Well, nobody will anymore; reading is strictly forbidden among the slaves of former Earth. You might as well have proclaimed it on a billboard. You try having an abusive old man and not watching over your shoulder wherever you go. But seriously. I'm okay. I'm okay. Everything is okay.
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