Suddenly, the silence was broken by the susurrus of a distant queef. I knew then that Promethius had betrayed me. — Tales of Woe: The Memoirs of Pinsophocles
I hope my followers delight to read…
Feast upon Titus Andronicus now:
(Iambic Pentameter, yea bitches!)
Hark, villains! I will grind your bones to dust
And with your blood and it I’ll make a paste,
And of the paste a coffin I will rear
And make two pasties of your shameful heads,
And bid that strumpet, your unhallow’d dam,
Like to the earth swallow her own increase.
This is the feast that I have bid her to,
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;
For worse than Philomel you used my daughter,
And worse than Progne I will be revenged:
And now prepare your throats. Lavinia, come,
Receive the blood: and when that they are dead,
Let me go grind their bones to powder small
And with this hateful liquor temper it;
And in that paste let their vile heads be baked.
Come, come, be every one officious
To make this banquet; which I wish may prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs’ feast.
He cuts their throats
So, now bring them in, for I’ll play the cook,
And see them ready ‘gainst their mother comes.
Exeunt, bearing the dead bodies
Played Cards Against Humanity last night and it was AWESOME.
What did Vin Diesel eat for dinner?
A can of whoop-ass
Indiana Jones in the Refrigerator