Are you aware of my glare? Do you feel my angry eyes burning a hole in your forehead? There is no repentance. The devil hormone is freely flowing within you. Sickening. Satisfying crack as the bat makes contact with the whore’s skull.

She’s half my size. Long, platinum-blonde hair. If I picked her up with it and swung her around, would her scalp get torn off? Her voice grates against me. Her mind is so small. She must die. You? I would drown you. I would drown you, doctor. Let’s not forget this. We mustn’t.

Where’s my glove box?