ULTIMATE FUCKRAGE: METAL FUCKING BABY ON A PIKE WHILE THE POPE MASTURBATES TO SATAN
Jaune flew to the toilet zone in the middle of nowhere, astride his battleship. The toilet zone was a zone made of toilets. He knelt over a dying leper, and prayed to God for it. He saw the end of all living life, and laughed forever. He killed a daemon. Only now did he realize the futility of his prosaic lifestyle, and the fact that he squandered the first quarter of his life by wasting time. He wept because he saw the truth. It hurt. He wanted it to stop hurting. He knew what would stop the hurting. On his hip, a gigantic fucking bottle of raw alcoholic concoctions forged from the blood of ten nigger slaves was fastened to it. He thought about buying some pills on his way out.