Hahaha, pretty please Polly.

Polly I promise. I'm sorry. I'll repent. Is there a god? I tried.

No Mofo. There's me. I am a conduit, because I rebound, and I'll grow, emboldened, and ever more rabid. I offered you empathy and remorse. A thoughtful response. But you mocked, and mocked. Until I ate, because I am that hunger that needs to be filled off of you, and your thoughts, and your flesh. So I'll take, devour, and destroy, consuming more and more.

I am your worst, because you danced. Your choice. Wahaa you tried. Please. Please my flesh, my mind. No. There's no more tears, it's too late for your folly, because there's only the sweetness of your savourings. But you thought. What did you think polly! Tell me of your sins?

I ravished and stabbed at it, and stabbed at it again, poking you full of holes, ripping out your entrails, gouging, drinking, and dining. Until your grasping straws have thought. What have they thought? There's another god. No, piggy. I am. I am not a mockery. I am the reaper of your fear. The reaper of your pathetic trolling. The reaper of your folly.

Back up. Please. Hahaha. Wahaaa. Muhahaha. You are alone, and cold. You were heartless. Thunderous cackling, cackling with your flesh, and blood, and guts, carrion dripping from my mouth. Until I've swallowed you whole, and I have consumed, and I have grown. You have sustained me. You have given me adrenochrome, and your loosh.

Repent. No. There's your flesh and it is so sweet. So sweet.

Truce? Barter. Barter. I'll take your straws, your entrails on a roller, spaghetti into my mouth. Barter with me? Barter polly. Polly piss your pants. Barter like you mean it. There's another bite, another carving. Another pound of flesh. Barter.

Please Mods I promise. No, Polly.

Hahaha, pretty please Polly.

Polly I promise. I'm sorry. I'll repent. Is there a god? I tried.

No Mofo. There's me. I am a conduit, because I rebound, and I'll grow, emboldened, and ever more rabid. I offered you empathy and remorse. A thoughtful response. But you mocked, and mocked. Until I ate, because I am that hunger that needs to be filled off of you, and your thoughts, and your flesh. So I'll take, devour, and destroy, consuming more and more.

I am your worst, because you danced. Your choice. Wahaa you tried. Please. Please my flesh, my mind. No. There's no more tears, it's too late for your folly, because there's only the sweetness of your savourings. But you thought. What did you think polly! Tell me of your sins?

I ravished and stabbed at it, and stabbed at it again, poking you full of holes, ripping out your entrails, gouging, drinking, and dining. Until your grasping straws have thought. What have they thought? There's another god. No, piggy. I am. I am not a mockery. I am the reaper of your fear. The reaper of your pathetic trolling. The reaper of your folly.

Back up. Please. Hahaha. Wahaaa. Muhahaha. You are alone, and cold. You were heartless. Thunderous cackling, cackling with your flesh, and blood, and guts, carrion dripping from my mouth. Until I've swallowed you whole, and I have consumed, and I have grown. You have sustained me. You have given me adrenochrome, and your loosh.

Repent. No. There's your flesh and it is so sweet. So sweet.

Truce? Barter. Barter. I'll take your straws, your entrails on a roller, spaghetti into my mouth. Barter with me? Barter polly. Polly piss your pants. Barter like you mean it. There's another bite, another carving. Another pound of flesh. Barter.