Oh man, did Beverly do it this time. She has gone beyond even my forgiving patience. She has pushed me beyond enraged, beyond any anger I have ever previously experienced. She tastes my ghost-chili anger. That’s right, this ain’t no sweet pumpkin pie kindness I’ve given her for almost a year now. This is the embodiment of hell placed onto one’s palette because it isn’t just hot; just think about it and you get a third degree burn. God save your soul if you dare to set this rage onto your tongue because it wont just destroy your body, it will destroy your existence, your soul, your being. This is the red-hot hell fire mixed with the black center of black holes black, a black so black, it’s not even considered black anymore but some new self-actualized black color. Walk into the room with my rage and you’ll pray that you could’ve taken that decision back. Because, when you enter the room with this beast, you’ll start smelling the worst odors you have ever smelled. You’ll smell all the rotting corpses on the face of the planet mixed with a whole skyscraper filled with cow, hippopotamus, and elephant poo, something more poisonous than carbon monoxide. Except you wont die, no, you’ll collapse to the ground and beg for mercy as this monstrous smell overtakes your body like poison hemlock; in fact, you’ll wish you had hemlock compared to this. Don’t even get me started on the sound. The sound is a mix between the blood-curdling scream of a banshee and five-foot nails on a chalkboard that never ends. I hope you’ve got some common sense because if you touch this thing, you’ll feel such awfulness. This monster feels like the sharpest knife ever; however, this knife is also a taser, because once you touch it, you will feel the pain of a taser course through your body. This anger isn’t just a carcharodon-megalodon (the most gigantic and fearsome of sharks of all time) it’s a carcharodon-megalodon mixed with Cerberus Satan and medusa! Forget redemption, if you look at this thing, you turn to stone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t feel the burning fire and fearsome jaws of this three headed hell spawn and you can’t even scream because you are stone. I hope you like sewage because drinking a cup of this isn’t just sewage, it’s sewage, hemlock, and liquefied hell mixed together. As you drink it, your muscles tighten from head to toe as your insides turn to salt from the intense heat. As you enter the ring with the accursed hell spawn, you look around and realize where you are. No, this isn’t hell; in fact, hell would seem like a vacation spot compared to where you are! Not only is your blood boiling, but your skin bubbles, just like ferocious flowing magma brutally spewing from a volcano, as well as you choke on the fire-breathing gigantic bees with indestructible stingers, your eyes melt away falling onto the cursed fiery tundra as rocky and unpleasant as broken glass, except sharper, one-million times sharper! I wasn’t just a rose pricking people with my thorns, no! I was a gigantic, radioactive Venus flytrap with chainsaws for teeth. Forget pleasant Florida beach weather because the weather here is cloudy with a chance of volcano eruptions and acid rain. The movie of my anger is Club Dread, and if you watch it, you play the first victim, but hey, at least it’s better than watching Twilight; well, for a few seconds at least. Beverly won’t even recognize me anymore. Not after this.
One angry dude
May 25, 2011