Music:crown me king feat max schreck & arthur conan doyle- sherlock versus orlock
okay, maybe i won't go to the gym, brain.
just like, the bottom falls out of everything all at once, no warning or anything. maybe a few speckles of cobwebs at the corners i guess, but isn't that all the time? i mean, what kind of jack-in-the-box are you, skull! even with your special metals! i fill you with the titan's metal & this is how you repay me? just wait till jenny slinks out of the picture for an hour & then pounce? well how about this: screw you! rather than rattle my bones off to the gym to slink between the machines all a-gollum, i'll sit right here & pull myself together. i did shout at myself like a submarine captain for a minute, that was rather embarrassing, especially since i was peppering gangster slang in there periodically. i'm just thinking about lucky rubbing out those dirty krauts in the double-yew double-yew eye eye! thinking about it. i've got a perchant for thinking! one might even say a knack! sometimes i turn those fierce screws towards the box of of my ribcage though & i get all torn up by something old. i keep that vial of poison in there because that vile vial is me, or the byproduct of my alchemical make-up. you probably know what i mean, i figure. i keep it in there, but sometimes it leaks right out of me; get our dark lubrication on & we come a-slither into your parlors, which are our parlors, said the spider to the fly & all that rot.