Go ahead, heep playin her like I'm doin this guitar. One of these days I'm gonna strip the teeth from your head and shove them down your throat. You can wash them down with the blood that will pour from your face like mountain rapids. And as you fall to your knees in disbelief, your glassy eyes will meet mine and you'll begin to notice that I've only began to take from you what you deserve. As long as your down there, I'll coil a frayed rope around your neck and run you across the carpet until it burns your skin like acid. Your flesh will tear away and leave crimson pools on the floor. Then its off to the kitchen, leaving a trail of you on the tile. You'll start whining like the little homo you are. "What?, You want the neuse off?" I'll reach above the stove and grab that gleaming cleaver and race it across your throat. Vocal cords spill out like blown circuits. Oh well, I guess I wont have to tell you to shut up any more. You won't be able to utter a sound. You wil just stare at your shredded cords, dripping red and green, the colors of the season. Then, I'll ignite the garbage disposal and we will both stare in silence for a moment at the whirring blades. I'll yank your hands from your sides, the same little paws that have stolen my money and hit me, and I'll heave them in. What a beautiful sight to see the swirling metal dicing the digits of flesh and bone, spattering your blood on the ceilings and walls. As you scream out in pain, your mouth gaping wide, I'll vise your tongue with a pair of rusted pliers. The same tongue that has lied to get me in trouble, spit on me, and cussed me. I'll tug it and lay it against the wall and drive a spike through so that you just dangle in the air.