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- Thread starter Lazlo
- Start date
I forgot, I have a gift.
Of course, there is the little fact that the gift tells people to KICK ME!
You were that person who knelt behind other kids and let them get pushed over you. You put "kick me" signs on our, I mean their, backs.
*sniff*
I wish you knew how it felt. . .
Of course, there is the little fact that the gift tells people to KICK ME!
You were that person who knelt behind other kids and let them get pushed over you. You put "kick me" signs on our, I mean their, backs.
*sniff*
I wish you knew how it felt. . .
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What am I doing to rescue the Princess? What am I doing to rescue the Princess?
Deety, we live in a world that has blackmail. And this blackmail has to be handled by men with balls. Who's gonna do it? You? You, methomps? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for yourself and you curse us blackmailers. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that my blackmail of people like you, while tragic, will probably save the Princess’ life. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want to know this truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me handling the blackmail. You need me handling the blackmail.
Us blackmailers use words like honor, code, loyalty. . . we use these words as the backbone to a life spent searching for something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a woman who rises and sleeps under the imaginary blanket created through the blackmail I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you learn how to blackmail and join in the fight. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think about me!
As a wisened blackmailer myself, I am the only one who can save the Princess.
You don’t want to hear this. Fine.
But it’s the truth. You just can’t handle the truth!
Deety, we live in a world that has blackmail. And this blackmail has to be handled by men with balls. Who's gonna do it? You? You, methomps? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for yourself and you curse us blackmailers. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that my blackmail of people like you, while tragic, will probably save the Princess’ life. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives...You don't want to know this truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me handling the blackmail. You need me handling the blackmail.
Us blackmailers use words like honor, code, loyalty. . . we use these words as the backbone to a life spent searching for something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a woman who rises and sleeps under the imaginary blanket created through the blackmail I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you learn how to blackmail and join in the fight. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think about me!
As a wisened blackmailer myself, I am the only one who can save the Princess.
You don’t want to hear this. Fine.
But it’s the truth. You just can’t handle the truth!
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By the way...love the originality...
Next time the Princess...or Sushi... or Deety... or FKA (that TOP loving pussy) gets kidnapped...
Goon squad time.
Next time the Princess...or Sushi... or Deety... or FKA (that TOP loving pussy) gets kidnapped...
Goon squad time.
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