But I had to! In order to appease the faeries camped around my house. They told me if I ever listened to Rob Zombie or Alice Cooper again, they would see to it that the Libertarians would take over. :eek:
So, I called up my Raellin congressman, Ted Kennedy, for advice. He told me to do some things that would shock a snuff porn producer.
Well, that didn’t help much, and now the police keep questioning me about the disappearance of my elderly neighbor…
I seek solace in religion. The priest answers the door with a flushed face and unfastened pants held up by one hand. “Yes?” he asks. Memories of my childhood come racing back to me…“Uh, never mind…” and I run home to the solace of my dark, damp closet.
That was when the faeries got mean.
Entering my house, they proceeded to redecorate in a Santa Fe theme, all the while playing Dwight Yokum’s Favorite Spanish Easter Songs.
Enraged by the Bakersfield sound of DW, and none too happy that my precious Star Trek themed furniture is burning in a pile on my front lawn, I use my last line of defense. Brandishing the tire iron I keep handy next to the toilet, I become The Beserker, smashing faerie heads left and right.
“OG SMASH! OG SMITE!” I bellow with each crash of metal into bone.
But, outside, thousands more faeries appear.
Covered in blood, faerie guts, and pottery shards, I bow to the inevitable.
For I am but mortal man. And the faeries want flavored coffee.
I did find a nice bakery just down the way from here, tho.