haha... was in the library just now.
kinda reminded me of wilbur tay.
all of a sudden i had a powerful urge to chase wilbur around the library with a knife.
i really miss him.
specifically, i miss whacking him.
i remember trying to flush his head in the toilet once.
didn't happen.
he squirmed too much.
squirming like the little worm he is.
and then...
just now i was SO hoping that i would see him.
i'd first greet him with a slash on the sleeve.
then i'll laugh gleefully at the fear and cowardice across his face.
then i'll chase his feeble form.
his piercing shrieks echo through my mind as i catch his pathetically frail body (his 2.4 timing is WORSE than mine. I didn't even think that was possible.)
i swiftly deliver a knee to his gut, shattering his ribs easily.
the air rushes from his lungs as his rib pierces it.
he moans in agony, struggling to draw breath.
my fists hammer against his empty skull.
he whimpers in fear, adding to the joy of the moment.
i draw my blade and with it carve his pale face.
my soul dances with joy as i watch the tears fall from his eyes.
lastly, i plunge my blade into his thigh.
no, i will not allow him a swift death.
he doesn't deserve mercy.
i slowly break his legs.
i then stuff his still-living frame into the refuse chute.
after all,
of scum he comes,
and to scum he shall return.
i leave the scene,
his eyes, hollow as ever, follow my steps.
after all, the weak are here to justify the strong.

SEE!
who said i cant write happy stuff?