Poor unfortunate man seeks the faith of oblivion

Author: unorthodoxdevice

Date: January 20, 2004

Blood I see. Whoop-dee-dee.
I . . . think you really got to Freon, Mittens, you might want to . . . uh . . . apologize . . . I think he's threatening to jump in a lake.
To robot with disease I do speak, an apology would be tremendously weak.
Aw man, can you see this from my side? I work twenty-eight hours a day and my boss is trying to kill me with a knife and I usually have to be the diplomat in this house, I mean . . . I . . . I . . .
Could you . . . spare a nail or six?