Tyler Hamillton
April 19th 05, 04:04 AM
A few months later, as lives and infrastructures continued crumbling even
faster than before, I called a press conference to let the people know that
they ****ing better not try to blame me for any of this.
"I realize," I said, addressing them via interlink, "That, despite all my
best and most heartfelt efforts, things still seem to suck more than ever.
"So, I'm here, to say to you tonight: --> 'Hey! Just shut the **** up and
mind your own ****ing business!'"
Then I left the mike and let my Secretary of Defensiveness, Haven, finish up
the address, and lay out for the people, the even more draconian measures
I'd devised for them, one day, out of total boredom with even the most
supreme authority over matter and energy and human will.
"Hello," she began. "My name is Haven, and I hope you won't get all ****ed
about the following directives which are made, after all, with nothing but
your best interests at heart -- even if their roots do lie deep in the
filthy soup of unmitigated, primordial vengeance:
1: All offers of drugs claiming to be the best and strongest ever, must be
accepted and then sent immediately to Tyler's office, for further testing.
2: Whatever is ****ed about the world can no longer be blamed on the nervous
system which is structured so as to be able to perceive it in no other way.
3: Bars on windows must always be spaced just far enough apart, so a
squadron of highly-trained, 4-year-old girls can swarm in, one night, and
carry out any necessary governmental mandate.
4: Bars on windows must always be spaced just close enough together, so as
to prohibit the entrance of any team of highly-trained, 5-year-old girls,
such as those that frequently carry out the atrocities of various
non-governmental, and anti-government sympathy groups.
Then she put the mike down on the table and walked away, and this address to
the people -- was over.
faster than before, I called a press conference to let the people know that
they ****ing better not try to blame me for any of this.
"I realize," I said, addressing them via interlink, "That, despite all my
best and most heartfelt efforts, things still seem to suck more than ever.
"So, I'm here, to say to you tonight: --> 'Hey! Just shut the **** up and
mind your own ****ing business!'"
Then I left the mike and let my Secretary of Defensiveness, Haven, finish up
the address, and lay out for the people, the even more draconian measures
I'd devised for them, one day, out of total boredom with even the most
supreme authority over matter and energy and human will.
"Hello," she began. "My name is Haven, and I hope you won't get all ****ed
about the following directives which are made, after all, with nothing but
your best interests at heart -- even if their roots do lie deep in the
filthy soup of unmitigated, primordial vengeance:
1: All offers of drugs claiming to be the best and strongest ever, must be
accepted and then sent immediately to Tyler's office, for further testing.
2: Whatever is ****ed about the world can no longer be blamed on the nervous
system which is structured so as to be able to perceive it in no other way.
3: Bars on windows must always be spaced just far enough apart, so a
squadron of highly-trained, 4-year-old girls can swarm in, one night, and
carry out any necessary governmental mandate.
4: Bars on windows must always be spaced just close enough together, so as
to prohibit the entrance of any team of highly-trained, 5-year-old girls,
such as those that frequently carry out the atrocities of various
non-governmental, and anti-government sympathy groups.
Then she put the mike down on the table and walked away, and this address to
the people -- was over.