I'm in an abusive relationship with me. I'm not my close friend, more like a closer enemy. Hey! You're a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good I'm on top of it! Korny motherfucker. Check you out, PUNK. Yes I know you feel it. Cause right now I'm all it, kid. Who the fuck you think you talking to? ARE YOU READY? SO YOU HATE ME, AND I HATE YOU. Who's hot, who's not? It's just a shame that you're a fag and on a lower level. Wait, where'd you get that little dance? COME ON, HILLYBILLY! You sure do got a purdy mouth... AND I LOVE YOU, AND I WANT YOU, AND I'LL SUCK YOU, AND I'LL FUCK YOU, AND I'LL BUTTFUCK YOU -- AND I'LL EAT YOU!!! And If my day keeps going this way I just might break something tonight... I HOPE YOU KNOW I PACK A CHAINSAW. It's all about the he says she says bullshit. Can't I take away all this pain? I try to every night in vain. Sometimes I cannot take this place, sometimes it's my life I can't taste. You'll never see me fall from grace. SOMETHING TAKES A PART OF ME. YOU AND I WERE MEANT TO BE. Feeling like I have no release. How many times have I felt diseased?

"A millennium," I whisper, turning around, nearing her. "What?" she asks, still studying the Onica. "I said, what in the fuck are you doing with Robert Hall?" I whisper. "What did you say?" As if in slow motion, like in a movie, she turns around. I wait until she's seen the nail gun and the gloved hands to scream, "What the fuck are you doing with Robert Hall?" Perhaps on instinct, perhaps from memory, she makes a futile dash for the front door, crying out. Though the chardonnay has dulled her reflexes, the Scotch I've drunk has sharpened mine, and effortlessly I'm leaping in front of her, blocking her escape, knocking her unconscious with four blows to the head from the nail gun.