What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll
have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve
been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300
confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper
in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another
target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which
has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You
think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet?
Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of
spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better
prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic
little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be
anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and
that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in
unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United
States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your
miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only
you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever”
comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your
fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the
price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will
drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.
I don’t give a fuck who you are or where you live. You can count
on me to be there to bring your fucking life to a hellish end. I’ll put
you in so much fucking pain that it’ll make Jesus being nailed to a
cross in the desert look like a fucking back massage on a tropical
island. I don’t give a fuck how many reps you have or how tough you are
IRL, how well you can fight, or how many fucking guns you own to protect
yourself. I’ll fucking show up at your house when you aren’t home. I’ll
turn all the lights on in your house, leave all the water running, open
your fridge door and not close it, and turn your gas stove burners on
and let them waste gas. You’re going to start stressing the fuck out,
your blood pressure will triple, and you’ll have a fucking heart attack.
You’ll go to the hospital for a heart operation, and the last thing
you’ll see when you’re being put under in the operating room is me
hovering above you, dressed like a doctor. When you wake up after being
operated on, wondering what ticking time bomb is in your chest waiting
to go off. You’ll recover fully from your heart surgery. And when you
walk out the front door of the hospital to go home I’ll run you over
with my fucking car out of no where and kill you. I just want you to
know how easily I could fucking destroy your pathetic excuse of a life,
but how I’d rather go to a great fuckng length to make sure your last
remaining days are spent in a living, breathing fucking hell. It’s too
late to save yourself, but don’t bother committing suicide either… I’ll
fucking resuscitate you and kill you again myself you bitch-faced
phaggot. Welcome to hell, population: you.