Sat in the mud, I listen you intently. You ask about Lexibabe and her fashion designs and my stand up routine in hell. I nod along and reply:
*Giggle*
“No Ali, Lexibabe’s design aesthetic is more leopard print meets exorcist style vomiting and bright red heels. She tends to avoid blasting caps and such…she has bad taste for sure, epic bad taste in fact! But she’s not some third rate Bond villain with an exploding G-string fetish”.
“Oh and let’s just say this about my standup routine and whether or not it’s popular in hell. Every time I try it, the big boss man sends me to the cell of a well known 1930’s / 1940’s dictator.”
It’s at this moment I have an epiphany, my stand up routine sucks - Lexibabe jokes are not cool! I look glum, while you giggle uncontrollably. Still this little break has been worth it, yes it cost the life of the censor “Old Man Withers” but that’s a small price to pay. Besides I’m happy to report a new censor has joined the team - “Old Man Geoff”
I look up to the havens and call out:
“Heh Old man Geoff! I look forward to working with you. Me and Ali will try to not take up too much of your time”.
Anyway with a new censor on board to deal with Ali’s filth it’s time to get this party started. And yes it is Ali’s filth…as apparently I’m a good girl or so I was recently told
I rise up from the mud and face you, my eyes are cold and my expression is void of love - the fun is gone. I snarl at you, as I say:
“Get the fuck up you concubine whore!”
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