I hope this at least leads to the deaths of songs that glorify psycho shooters, like Vince Staples and Diddy.
There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes, and maybe it’s too much for us, but it’s all on you. Because if we can’t protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we’ll avenge it.
Hello?
Put Natasha on the phone.
Who is this?
This is her fucking son's father. Who is this?
This is her fucking son.
..........oh.......
Call back in 20 minutes. *click*
Boy, you could get lost in a sky like that. I wish I had those balloons again.
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