The pounding feeling. The...jaw setting, scowling... defeated feeling. Dismay... simply, "diarrhea of failure," much like "diarrhea of the mouth." ...then it rings again...like some sort of audible crystal...shining and yet, at the same time, it's so hard to look at...wearying...
I got you...
Yes, wearying is best to describe the feeling...it draws on you, like a Metroid...there is no...defense, but to surrender peaceably...humbly admitting defeat at the hands of a higher being...not a proud humbling, but a...grimaced humbling that comes from...force instead of peace. One which expounds the thought...the meaning...the fact...
I got you...
It is unclear if it's worse that I was got, that I...almost, in a way, did it to myself...or that it now stands back proudly...a type of GG...the losing team, dragging their helms, forming a line to high-five the winning team...who are going for pizza after the game...as the pizza place wonders why in the world they ever sponsored the team...but the PR disaster that would result from withdrawing sponsorship from the Tiny Tims softball team would be...a hit the restaurant may never recover from...offending even one Tiny Tim was enough to cause Scrooge to be haunted by three demonic entities...an entire softball team's worth would be, quite plainly...suicide by demonic means.
I now ponder what course of action the affront requires.
A bitter, scalding defeat...a proud, apathetic enemy...carelessly ending my reign of victory...it will burn within my soul, driving me further to depths of revenge...every step...every move...silent cursings flowing forth from the heart, as desperately wicked as it is...deceiving my mind...causing missteps...faltering...a deluge of delusions and lostness permeating...
Even still...there can be only one outcome...only one solution...one fitting end...as I rise above the tyrants and the kings, above the powers of the simple and confounding the powers of the wise...the powers of the pure and the powers of the untrue...casting aside the crowns of the high and the robes of the foolish...though all would be consumed by me, I will yet not destroy ferociously those who mean me no harm...no...I will then turn my fury on the one who caused it all...consumed by this rage which burns within me...I now set my sights on my enemy...the one who dared to utter...I got you...
[Kev has been getting into Final Fantasy I (GBA) a bit much. He is burning with pure hatred because he was defeated by a powerful boss he shouldn't have tried to fight. His pride is hurt. He has to accept bitter, bitter defeat at the hands of a now-hated enemy. See picture.]
[I just discovered that somebody told my brother that I am annoyed at him because he cooks such slop. I wonder who.]
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