You are going to get your ass kicked. I've had it with your soul-sucking. I've had it with you making me miserable and a depressive bitch all week. Who do you think you are, strutting around with your invisible magic elves judging how clever I am, giving me anxiety attacks. I don't fucking need this. I'm going to be heading your way tomorrow with an ego like Kanye West's to destroy you. I'm going to make you my bitch. And then I'm going to ingest a fuckload of alcohol and nicotine into my system to celebrate. I'd let you finish, except Imma finish you first. PREPARE TO DIE.
-V.
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