Shit shit shit.
Shit shit fucking shit fuck.
You think I care, Skeptic? I think I care about you? You called me, remember? You said, "Hey, I have this great idea: let's go to war!" And I didn't fucking want to do it. But you convinced me. And now you bailed.
I understand why. I do. But you couldn't tell it to my face? You had to sneak out in the middle of the fucking night?
Fuck that shit. When it's my turn, when it's my time, I'm not going to go out to the desert someplace and go quietly. I'm going to the tallest building I can find and when he comes for me, I will run him straight off the roof.
That's how I'm going to die. How are you?