| What now thy rebellious wretch?
Thou evil spawn of children lack the true markings of those born of rank Unless thy only understanding of rank is that which is your odor The true meaning of your villianous acts cannot be hidden in thou niave ways for as the kiwi ripens with a ruddy brown for also your ways shall grow sick and inflamed and I swear by my noble blade That you shall be the creature to taste eternal doom and question not the haste of thy end for as I feel the static in my fur I too feel your end is near let it be known that the kumquat of which you feast Shall escape the fate of being digested by the likes of your repulsive living gut for as I end this I finish you! |