If I met God one day, I would push him down onto the ground and rake my foot right up into his nuts with the full force my body could possibly muster for even ever conceiving of a putrid cunt group like the one you belong to even if it meant I spent an eternity in the worst Hell imaginable.
If you ever come near my property I'll shoot you without any hesitation, if I ever have a genie magically appear my only wish will be to wipe you disgusting horrid spittle wads of people off the face of the universe in the most painful and agonizing way a person could possibly ever die. I would gladly grab you by the shoulders, and run us both into a volcano for the better of mankind, and before we died from the heat I would spit right in your face.
I would go to Africa, catch every mosquito I could, and quickly bring them back to your house and set them free as you slept, shit in the top part of your toilet, piss in your wallet, break your television, pour wet sugar into your PC, stick my finger right up my ass and rub it right across your upper lip before letting loose hundreds of cattle onto your property to shit all over your yard.
Over the sounds of your screams, I will firmly rotate the weapon in a counter-clockwise direction, and list off why Prince of Persia The Movie did not exist, and why such a thing would be an affront to anyone who truly cared about the series. But I will not attempt to convince you of the truth of my words, as you have clearly shown from your simple post that you are beyond saving. As you are turned in a rotatory fashion to allow the spiked to shred your rectum, I will tape the entire event, and when the fire ants have left so many holes in your internal organs that you suffocate on your own blood, I will proceed to personally deliver that tape to your closest living parent. After introducing myself and playing the tape for them, I will then remove said tape from the VCR I will have brought with me and promptly bludgeon your mother to death with the VCR. As they are the ones to birth you, they deserve no better than death.
Not with a dick, not with a rake, I wish rather to smear honey on a cylindrical morning star. Said medieval weaponry would then be flown to the jungles of wherever the fiercest, bloodthirstiest species of fire ants may be found. I will collect thousands of ants onto this harbinger of pain and suffering, book a return flight back to the homeland and then visit you at your home while you sleep. Having hired three burly black-men, I will watch them haul you from your bed and pin you to the ground while one sets up a camera mounted upon a tripod sold by a reputable businessman. While they hold you down and briskly jerk themselves off into your hair and clothes I will PLUNGE my fire-ant infested morningstar (spiked for your pleasure) so far into your rectum that it will rupture both your spleen and gall-bladder. The ants will be thrown into a frenzy as they burrow into your intestines and organs, tearing flesh and muscle apart while you scream and beg.
Jasprar
