A Very Real Danger

So I'm walking down the road in me neighborhood, minding me own business when this right friendly fella who’s bringing out his trash says, “Good Morning, Sir,” and I says right back to him, “Good morning to you sir and a beautiful morning it is too!”

He smiled at me and I smiled back! By the dark lord’s beard my brain is becoming corrupted! I didn’t scowl! I didn’t swear! I didn’t call him a suburban, trash bearing, monkey boy! I told him it was a beautiful morning! I hate beautiful mornings.

I’m a creature of detention! Sulfur and brimstone, fire and ice (well there’s plenty of ice around here right now, but not the kind that causes you to lose limbs); death and destruction are my loves, NOT beautiful mornings.

I’m afraid it’s this damn soma transform. I’ve been wearing the body of a monkey boy for so long I’m starting to become like one. Of course there’s plenty of evil monkey boys and girls, but not in this here neighborhood. My outer shell shouldn’t betray me inner black heart either, but I’ve heard stories were some kind of goodness poison gets in your soul and the next thing you know you’re sending valentines to your sweetheart and taking her to Barry Manilow concerts.

Maybe I’ll go out and kill something tonight…

- Aimless