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Perhaps there is some glimmer of sense among these so-called 'chosen' ones. My son and daughter are meant to be kings of all beings, and I am pleased to see this recognized without persuasion on my part.

That is all.

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I will give you one chance to retract any and all comments about my mother.

What is wrong with you people? Jesus fuck. I swear to God, way too many people on the shittrap of a ship have mommy issues. Like hell I'm retracting anything.

Get over it, it's a turn of goddamn phrase, motherfucker.

Should our paths cross, I will kill you. It will take days.

I will break everything within you, physical and mental.

Been there, done that. Pretty sure you can't top it, trashcanhead. You try and I'll feed you those words with a fist.

I will be greatly amused while watching you try, I am sure.

The only thing I'm sure about is the fact that you're going to need a medic to unjam that bright and shiny helmet from your oral fucking orifice.

I have never seen such bravado coupled with so little sense of self-preservation.

Step into my fucking shoes, walk around in my life. It's not bravado, shitbag. You have no clue who I am or what I've seen. Self-preservation? Self-fucking-preservation?

I've survived Terminators, fought tooth and goddamn nail to protect my son, to live so he could. I will rip down the motherfucking fake-ass sky if I have to in order to survive. No one will stand in my way. Not you. Not anyone.

I don't need a sense of self-preservation. I'll survive because I have to, because I still have shit to do. And I don't need to watch my mouth, either.

So fuck you, fucker.

I am anticipating our battle to be satisfying, then. Do not disappoint me.

Oh, I wouldn't want to disappoint you. That would be rude.

Edited 2010-07-28 19:25 (UTC)

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