Princesses, dragons, and pirates, oh my!

What the fuck did you just fucking say about Veronica, you fucking Heather? I’ll have you know I’ve been through 10 high schools, and my father is Big Bud Dean and we’ve blown up over 300 buildings. I’ve been trained to make your death look like a suicide.  You are nothing to me but just another Heather. I will copy your handwriting with the precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit about Veronica? Think again, fucker. As we speak, I am writing in your copy of Moby Dick and plotting your suicide so you better prepare for the storm, mouthbreather.  The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life.  You’re fucking dead, jock.  I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can write the best suicide note you’ve ever read. Not only do I have access to “Ich Luge” bullets, but I have access to TNT and I will use it to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit.  If only you could have known what unholy retribution your “clever” rumors were about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue.  But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot.  I will make sure you never make it to senior prom.  You’re just like Heather, kiddo.