OOK! (QPM drives a Boeing 747 into your face) Yess!!! all my dreams have
come true!!! alt.slack's resident Extremely Annoying Whiney Masochist and
Extremely Profound and Wonderful Godlike Sadist cross "swords" at last!
Beware, o crawling squirming puke-eating cheerio in my great Spoon, you
have stepped over the threshold of QPM the mighty, the munitionificent, the
Inexorable Invisible Indestructible International Indefatigable
Infallible Penis Which is Impossible To Ever Extract from your Rectum!
YES, Though Your Mind Be Destroyed By Shame And Humiliation, Though Your
Life-Force Be Cancelled Out Due To The Overwhelming Yeti Two-FistedNess
in your immediate proximity, though your entire negligible aura be sucked
into my pipe for a passing "pick-me-up" that only lasts 3 seconds, the
Awful Intrusion of my Psyche Upon yours shall be everlasting! At first it
will start with you seeing shadows out of the very corner of your eye
which disappear when you look in their direction, but you'll feel a
little haunted, wondering what they were... next you'll start noticing
the Connections... and then after that, it'll ALL be downhill! The
ever-increasing assault of Capital Letters shall be so overwhelming
that in the end it will drive you to walk solemnly down into your basement
late one night with a tear in your eye, a drag in your step, and a
scared look on your face, and impale your fucking nothing self on an iron
SPIKE rather than face one more wretched crawling sickness of a day with
the Army of Dots POUNDING on your SKULLL! HAHAHAHAHA, no it shall not
come to an end even then, no your next life shall have a QPM of its own,
waiting with his pair of straight razors to make your life a literal
living HELL again aind again and AGAIN!!! And you'll say "No, don't hurt
me, I was just kidding! Please stop! I'm serious, I was just kidding
about that whipping boy malarkey, it was all a joke right? heh, he..."
And I'll say "Shut up, pig! You know you like it!" And I'll take out my
can opener and my dentist's drills and my blowtorch and maybe if you're
really good, my Special Tools, which have no names and defy all
description, the mere image of which can make the rest of a man's life
into a living nightmare, whose clashing together makes That Sound, and
I'll say "Hold still, this will only last FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY" And
I'll leave them on, and leave the room, because even I don't like to see
the Special Tools when they get going, and I'll go find your precious
Lisanne, and THEN, well gosh, who knows what I'll do...
(False Slack indeed! Heh, you DON'T know me, hoss.)
-agsts "campfire anna canna beans" QPM
P.S. Do you REALLY wanna be our whippin' boy? Cause I can use me a
whippin' boy...