I would have to say… Sweetums.
I would have to say… Sweetums.
Gladly. For the most part, people tend to see it as the most gruesome violation of the divine spark of life that exists within a body. Like rape (which I personally believe to be much worse), they dismiss cannibalism as animalistic, as the ultimate refutation of God. And the common masses don't enjoy entertaining the…
It could be worse. Larry Sanders doesn't have a face anymore - just a thin veneer of flesh, stretched tighter than the surface of a balloon, with a horrid, immobile anus-blossom of a mouth at the very center. They say if you stare at it for too long, you'll see how you die.
Oh, he wasn't just a cannibal. Divine hallucinations, sexual mutilation, coprophagia… the man was tremendously sick. I mean, say what you will, but I've never eaten one child, much less five.
Let's take Ecstasy and rub our faces on a dog! Best… day… EVER!
Let's get hammered in a celebratory fashion, then! Fuck five years of sobriety, I'm shotgunning this one! Woo!
"Activity is still being updated." It seems we're to play the Waiting Game, gents. Perhaps we should crack open a frosty tall boy or some such.
@drdarke: On what part of "I choked him to death" were you not clear?
He's not so much a writer as a man who reads other books and thinks it's a good idea. As Joker once put it: "Why is Grant Morrison bald? So he doesn't get his hair dirty when his head's up his ass."
Electricity in particular seemed to be the writers' de facto method of incapacitating Superman while also getting BS&P off their backs. Not sure how to end a scene? Some random mook sticks a Taser in Superman's back and he goes down like a puss. Simple, no?
I strongly discourage you from picking up The Dark Knight #2, but that's just common sense talking. (Yes, it's actually worse than the first one! Amazing!)
Detective Bullock! Today truly is full of surprises! Remember back when you were interrogating me, and you threatened to shove a mop handle up my ass?
Well, he showed up at Arkham one day, sporting a green domino mask, a shaven head, and question-mark tattoos all over his body. I politely informed him that he had not yet earned the right to co-opt my signature look, and then I throttled him until he shat his pants and his face turned purple. Crisis averted, say I.
"Can you tell what it was like voicing 'Black Guy #3'?"
"Oh, now this one was a challenge…"
Damn my crippling lack of self-confidence.
But am I still pretty?
From… Wells? H.G. Wells? Something like that, I'm not sure…
C, C, C, A#, B…
He had a staff with two snakes intertwined all around that bitch!
*sigh* I was really doped up at the time, alright? I could barely think past the fog of Thorazine they were pumping into my brain. Cut me a little slack.