- your friend sk
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(ヤイケス!)
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What the gently caress did you just loving say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Wonka Academy, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on the Slugworth cartel, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top caramel producer in the entire military-confectionary complex. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the gently caress out with candy bullets, made with culinary precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my loving words. You think you can get away with saying that poo poo to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of Oompa Loompas across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the flood, maggot. The molasses flood that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're loving dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can candy-coat you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in candy-based combat, but I have access to the entire cookbook of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable rear end off the face of the continent, you little poo poo. 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 loving tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will poo poo fudge all over you and you will drown in it. You're loving dead, kiddo.
 
Join the BYOB Army
thank you again Saoshyant!!
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Mar 14, 2021 18:39
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- Adbot
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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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May 21, 2024 12:42
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- your friend sk
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(ヤイケス!)
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You can't handle the truth!
Son, we live in a world that has candy, and that candy has to be created by little orange men. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lieutenant Bucket? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Gloop, and you curse the Oompa Loompas. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know -- that Gloop's death, while tragic, probably saved the factory; and my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, is also delicious.
You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want that chocolate -- you need that chocolate.
We use words like "Oompa," "Loompa," "Doompety doo." We use these words as the backbone of a life spent cooking something. You use them as a punch line.
I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps mouth ringed with the very confections that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it.
I would rather that you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a spoon and stand the post. Either way, I don't give a drat what you think you're entitled to!
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Mar 15, 2021 15:01
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Mar 14, 2021 18:39
