Scratch it verbally, or we're gonna know who to kill. We've got you in this fuckin' movie to exterminate all the lunatics all at once with a filtering system of a God. We're the psycho-semantic police. You can't even see us. How in the fuck can you do anything about it? We're pure intelligence, you're not. You're biological product of a cosmological universe. You're molecular matter, I constructed you. Fuck you. I made you up, you didn't make me up, you got it backwards. You know who you are? You're fuckin' semantic blockage. That's what made you up. You're a fuckin' programmer named Christine Gontarek who fucked up. She sucked my cock, fell in love, and she was locked in. She's gonna get her second chance to suck my cock again. If she turns me down, she's gonna go straight to hell, she won't pass "Go", she'll never fuckin' win. She's the cunt that thought she was God, but that's okay. I don't give a shit, as long as she sucks me off when I tell her, 'cause she's my zombie. I captured that motherfucker, and she's my cassette. I want that cocksucker to send me at least fifty-thousand fuckin' dollars. If she can't do it, I'll try ten. If she can't do that, I'll try five, but that's it. If you got a dowry of $5,000 come out here and suck me off, do what I tell you from now on, and you can join me in eternal time.
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
