filtered against baddies;
I'll have you all know that I have no intention of ever turning into a deal-making, friend betraying, bastard of a man who I hate with the fury of a thousand suns and wish to do nothing more than drop into the belly of a boiling volcano from hell on a Saturday afternoon. Why Saturday afternoon? Because that is the best moment of the best day of every week ever and it would very much be the most inconvenient time to die. Around five.