I'm spittin' mad this morning. Finally, the gloves are coming off. I've had enough. This is it.
I simply refuse to live this way, threatened by the major industrial powers. It's time for those SOBs to either put up or shut up. Here I am, SOBs, if you want me, come and get me! What's the matter, you can't do it?!
Seriously, it's not like you don't know where I live. We all know you do. Because it's obvious. You were already here at my house in April or May. For those who may not remember it, even though it was unforgettable, certain thuggish characters -- both chiefs and underlings -- had me under house arrest, as they hung out in my willow trees and shot fireballs over my roof. Thankfully, my roof isn't made of thatch.
Well, you dirty so-and-sos -- SOBs -- I haven't moved. I'm still right here on the old half-acre. I'm the same old bundle of bad news you've always known. Bad news, as far as you're concerned, although the rest of the world seems to think I have more than a few redeeming qualities. And quite frankly, I have to agree with the world!
Look, you SOBs, I guess I'm just fed up with your idle threats. It's getting old! Either come out with it -- come across with it -- or give it up. If you're out to get me, here I am. I'm starting to think you're all talk and no action. I'm starting to think you're nothing but hot air. You've got nothing to show for it! Are you chicken?
I know I've given the impression that I've been afraid of you SOBs in the past. Like when I've made my reconnaissance sorties into your precious park, I've been looking both ways, all four directions, and up and down. Every black SUV and green ATV has given me the jitters, and I've given up the fullness of my reconnaissance efforts prematurely due to fear. You had me going for a while...
But now, you dirty SOBs, I'm announcing it loudly and proudly, those days of fear are over. I'm no longer afraid. Because you've shown yourself incapable either of catching me or doing anything with me when you had me. I've slipped through your grasp time after time, even though anyone with any competence could've taken me. But you've shown yourselves incompetent, either to make quality items in your factories or to catch your nemesis. At both tasks, you suck.
I seem to recall you were going to keep me prisoner in my house till you got a hold of me. How'd that work out for you, you rotten SOBs? It didn't take that much effort for me to sneak out of the house and evade you time after time. Your chiefs and underlings both were left sleeping in the tree. More incompetence! Wake up and smell the willow buds!
Here's the real deal, SOBs: Let me spell it out for you: I will go where I want and do what I want, whether here at home or there at your precious park. There's no more fear, zero fear. I've advanced on. There's nothing you can do to frighten me at this point. I've got your number. I've got you all figured out. You wouldn't know how to take me prisoner if you had handcuffs, a badge, and a Velcro body suit! It's all a sham.
Let me just say, I'm so sorry if I'm shaking your confidence, you industrial SOBs. I guess that's just what I do. But hey, it couldn't happen to a bigger bunch of SOBs! Now ... buzz off!