EPTIt’s like asking a man you robbed to return you the money you’ve lent him;
Like hiring the woman -- nay -- man you raped to babysit your daughter;
Like having the man whose father you murdered as your surgeon.
Those. Dumb. Fucks.
I am not a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I am not a villain. And I’m definitely not evil for I am just. I am only Justine Chowder. Just good old me. And they will suffer my vengeance.
Dear Diary:
I had been sad and depressed for so long, but finally, FINALLY … I see the light at the end of the tunnel.
They have killed all my children. Every single one of them died a premature death while theirs lived on undeservedly for waaaaaay longer than the average lifespan, enjoying a high life for all that time. They feel the pride and joy of their so-called achievements, but they are aren’t aware of the damage they are causing to achieve that “fabulous status” of theirs.
My children weren’t medicore! I am NOT a failure! I don’t see what was the appeal of such and old and haggardly being among their fans to begin with.
This one day, I’ve suddenly got an expected call. At first I thought they had called to gloat. And then I thought they were trolling. And then I was sure they were pulling a prank on me just so that they could laugh at me again. “Dude so how did that go? I guess your youngest died already right? Lols lols LOLS hahaha hue hue BRBR!”
“This has got to be a joke right?” The answer came back from him: “No, we are serious.”
WHAT.
He looked serious, but then I do not trust him, or anyone for that matter, as everyone does is lie and hurt people, I've watch enough House to be sure of that fact.
“Are you kidding me?”
The answer came back from him: “No, we are serious.”
WHAT?
I pinched my face, rubbed by eyes and stuck a q-tip into my ears (each) and gave them a good rubbing.
He was still there with his serious face, already annoyed and impatient. I even detected some micro expressions of worry and a drop on confidence and joy. People are just like that when they think you don’t believe them. Most people have such low self-esteem.
“You’re for real? I mean for real, for real?!”
He smiled: “Yes, I am delighted that you’re finally showing some enthusiasm. For a moment I was worried you might reject the offer.”
WHAT?!
That was it. I let my guard down and shook his hand warmly. “That’s fantastic, I’ve been waiting forever for this day!”
I checked his face, waiting to see if he’d burst out laughing and go hue hue on me because I’ve opened myself to a good laugh if he was trying to prank me.
But it was apparent that the answer was no. They were serious.
WHAT?!!
Those. Dumb. Fucks.
I have been waiting forever for this day. I never thought this day would actually come.
===============================================================
“Mr Justine Chowder, will you be interested in joining us in the development of our next creation?”
Yes, most certainly. Over the dead body of your firstborn.
No, I am not bitter at all, I am merely giving them what they deserve. I have it all laid out:
Firstly, I will very unartificially inseminate my genes into their second child. I will insert the genes of my dead children, which you have so coldly taken away from me, into your new-born. We will command the heart and conquer the soul of their new hope. The bastardisation will be blatant and perfect.
Once we are ready, I will take over your throne and initiate the beginning of the end for your firstborn. I will bury their first child so that it will never see the light of day again.
Those. Dumb. Fucks. My vengeance will come.
Never have I been happier to see the life being sucked out of something. One by one, sponsors are abandoning the haggard one. At the same time, never have I been more irritated, angry and furious for having to combat the dissatisfaction of the people toward the next great thing. The naysayers can all rot together with their precious ageing idol once I am done.
Those. Dumb. Fucks. My vengeance will be sweet.
The long wait was unbearable, but soon enough, we have taken over the throne. The deed was done. The old will be replaced by the new, despite the constant resistance of the old time cockroaches. Let them retreat underground, away from big screen -- while we -- conquer the limelight.
Those. Dumb. Fucks. My vengeance will be sweet -- sour for them though. I certainly do not feel bitter at all.
Astonishingly, as their battle cruiser was sinking, I found out it was the plan all along. “Sacrifices have to be made, the old must make way for the new”, Mike said. As it turns out, the new leaders did not give a damn about their firstborn either.
Well plot twist guys: It does not end there. Have I got another present for ya.
Now that I have handicapped the old giant, I will proceed to cripple my next victim. I control the reins and I am at liberty to create a terrible terrible freak of nature – one that will suffer a slow and painful death.
I will only be limited by my creativity.
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