‘I don’t like to feel good…I like to feel evil.’
You sweet talking son of a bitch! You’re pulling at my heartstrings now, aren’t ya?
Superheros. Victims. Villains.
You know me so well.
I gotta admit though, there are better ways of approaching the subject that don’t include reciting lines from Jatt’s screenplay. That thing was a fuckin’ skidmark. Thee absolute worst! I mean…wait…oh…that was a Steve Harrison original?
Huh. Well paint my dick green and call it a pickle. That’s embarrassing…
Let’s move past it Dr. Evil, what’s said is said. And no, that’s not a bald jab, so simmer the fuck down. It’s more of a ‘everything coming out of your mouth is a real Number Two’ jab.
But I’ll bite for funsies. Tell me about this ‘plan’ of yours.
Am I the snake to your mongoose or the mongoose to your snake? Does it include sharks with frickin’ laser beams attached to their heads? Was this plan cooked up in a Miracle Enterprise Secret Lair? Would it be far fetched to speculate a submarine?
Well come on. Spill the beans gossip girl. Take a moment to flesh ‘er out if you need it. I’m a patient man. Canadians typically are. But I don’t have to tell you about Canucks, do I? You’ve made it clear you’re willing to be the villain to my superhero, but that’s where the story dries up. I liked the sales pitch, but the product sucks balls. Where’s the Goddamned hook?
There ain’t no hook. There never was. All you’ve been doing is throwing handfuls of shit at the wall, hoping something, anything, would stick. It’s a pitiful display and all you’re doing is making a mess. A story all too familiar around these parts…
High Octane had a ‘Willing Villain’ once. He too was one for plans. It was endearing at first, clever in theory, and foolproof until executed. Needless to say, that act wore paper thin, and quick. He was lightning in a bottle. A flash in the pan. Oh, and a fuckin’ quitter.
That last one is all he’s remembered for. And it’s all you’ll be remembered for too, HareBear.
It’s an eerie sight because you’re skipping down a damn near identical path. It was smooth sailing at first and you were that rip-roaring success. Then you hit that rough patch where everyone realized you’re actually a big ol’ mangina. And now, you’re screaming towards your final destination, which unfortunately happens to be a locked cage with a pissed off Batman pacing it.
And you’re all out miracles scumbag!
Ha, just fuckin’ with ya.
Confused? Lemme tell ya, I was too. Long story short, ran out of my meds last year, had a bit of an episode. Wasn’t the ‘Creepy Knight’ as you put it, but rather The Dark Knight. Why am I telling you this? Good question. Hopefully, with a bit of that M.E brain power, you can come up with some fresh insults.
Volleyball set. Will he spike? Will he swing and miss? Don’t really give a fuck, to be honest.
I’ve struck a nerve, and it’s clear to everyone and their brother and sister. You’re unravelling and it’s fuckin’ ugly. TEDDY PALMER THROWS TIRED INSULTS DERP DERP. Now listen to me discuss Chest hairs, Canadian jokes, and Zeb’s sister on repeat. And you call me a hypocrite…cockmunch…
Question over here, front row. I was told there would be no legal documents for me to sign prior to permanently securing your seat on The Short Bus, but have since been threatened with a lawsuit. Can you clarify how much of a bitch you are on a scale of one to ten, One being a basic bitch, Ten being Teddy’s bitch?
I know the answer, I just want to hear you admit it. Or if you want to puff your chest out and put on a show for the people, I can boot fuck you into submission. Your call. Whatevs.
I’M A WILDCARD.
I don’t think you’ve begun to understand this at any point. I like to approach life with zest. You know what I mean? Live, Laugh, Love. But Teddy’s big into Flirt, Fight, Fuck as well. Of course, sometimes that switch flips and its Strike, Shatter, Shred. And sometimes I like a good cigarette.
Try your best to figure me out. Try your best to define me. Try your best to beat me.
You’re just wasting your time.