“One day some kids from the neighborhood carried my mother’s groceries all the way home. You know why? It was outta respect.”
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“One day some kids from the neighborhood carried my mother’s groceries all the way home. You know why? It was outta respect.”
"you talkin' to me?"
Mines from Juice
"you're crazy!"
"you know what? Last time you said that I was kinda trippin' right? But now, you're right. I am crazy. but you know what else? I don't give a ****."
I met him, fifteen years ago. I was told there was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong. I met this six-year-old child, with this blank, pale, emotionless face and, the blackest eyes... the *devil's* eyes. I spent eight years trying to reach him, and then another seven trying to keep him locked up because I realized what was living behind that boy's eyes was purely and simply... *evil*
Listen, and understand. That terminator is out there. It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.
"You see that ****in head come apart?" Bunny- Platoon. Great movie!
" you think you're big time...you're gonna ****in die big time " Al Pacino- Carlitos Way.
My children... from the very beginning, it was the children who gave me my power. The Springwood Slasher, that's what they called me. My reign of terror was legendary. Dozens of children would fall by my blades. Then the parents of Springwood came for me, taking justice into their own hands. When I was alive, I might have been a little naughty, but after they killed me, I became something much, much worse. The stuff nightmares are made of.
Do you love him Loretta?
I love him awful ma..
That's too bad........
End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.
I'm forty-seven. Forty-seven years old. You know how I stayed alive this long? All these years? Fear. The spectacle of fearsome acts. Somebody steals from me, I cut off his hands. He offends me, I cut out his tongue. He rises against me, I cut off his head, stick it on a pike, raise it high up so all on the streets can see. That's what preserves the order of things. Fear.
I ain't got time to bleed
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