Who Needs To Die?

A wonderful question. Who does need to die? I spend many a night jacking off while contemplating this contemplation. My results are almost always the same, but as of late, more and more of the cast of 3O Rock are making it on. Here are a few excerpts, as well as the reasons why they must be terminated. After all, simply declaring who must die would be unfair. I mean, if the Punisher just ran around killing people without alluding to their crimes in a splendiferous fashion, where would modern comics be? Much shorter and funnier, I imagine, but the stories would no doubt suffer.



NERMAL, the Gray Cat from Garfield. I hate Nermal. I don't even know why she exists, really. Who is she? Is she Jon's other cat? How gay is Jon that he has two cats? I've never really understood where the fuck Nermal comes from, or why Garfield hates her. But then again, it's Garfield. No one knows what the fuck is going on in this strip. Apparently, the ambiguously gay single man Jon lives alone and smokes pot all day. Why else would he think his two cats are talking?



MILHOUSE, that little wiener from The Simpsons. Milhouse, Milhouse, Milhouse. You four-eyed piece of shit. I hate Milhouse. He represents everything we want to say and do to everyone who wears glasses. Then why, pray tell, has he not been tortured into killing himself yet? Granted, he does suffer from Stigmata, but this is not enough. I scream for Milhouse's death. Better yet, let Moe kill him. Let's make Moe a serial killer. He'll tend the drunks by night, then stalk the parks for children to molest in the day. One day he picks up Milhouse, rapes him, then kills him. That would be an Emmy winner! I'm laughing so hard thinking about Milhouse being killed, I'm about to shit! Whoops! There she goes! That's right... I crapped myself.



ANGELICA, that dirty whore from The Rugrats. I hate Angelica so very, very much. All she does is piss and moan and be a huge bratty cunt and scream at babies. Bitch, that's my job. Don't make me stomp your fucking pigtails in. She really wouldn't be so goddamn intolerable if she wasn't a hero to thousands of little brats with rich parents and a bottle of blonde hair dye. In fact, fuck the entire writing staff of Rugrats. They never aired the episode I wrote for them; my magnificent fanscript really would've saved the show from being cancelled four years ago. In my episode, Angelica gets mad about some bullshit and screams at everyone. Then, the little black chick who is a RAGING stereotype comes and beats the living fuck out of her. Then, the parents come in and pee on her. It was three minutes long, and during writing, I laughed so hard my anus turned inside out.

SPIKE LEE, the huge racist. Look, Spike, we need to talk. You know how your movies have always portrayed the white man as a racially insensitive klan of rednecks who burn crosses and lynch blacks? Yeah, we've been meaning to get back to you about the huge double-standard to which your films are held. Apparently, it's fine for a black guy to make a movie where all the white guys are public nuisances who rape and pillage and oppress black people, but if Steven Spielberg put out a movie where a white neighborhood is besieged by a bunch of afro-american gangstas, the NAACP would be up in arms. Look, maybe there are some racial prejudices amongst the white man towards the black man. But you know what's really racist? Making broad statements about people from a certain ethnic background, for instance, 'all whites hate blacks'.

HIPPIES, those social mongoloids. I hate hippies. There's this hippie in my government class named Dan R., no wait, I'll call him D. Ratigan. Anyway, this asshole loves to sit in the back of the class and talk to this preppy chick about how much he loves to smoke weed and play guitar. Wow, you listen to the Dave Matthews Band, play hacky sack, and smoke weed? Talk about an overachiever! What's worse is that whenever I stand up for my fellow classmates and tell him to shut the fuck up, everyone turns against me! Once, we were all working on some shitty ditto paper, when Dan R., sorry, D. Ratigan of Manchester, New Hampshire, 03102, starts asking the whole class, 'hey, what are we doing again? I totally forgot'. Ha ha! Drug addiction is sooooo funny! So I say, 'hey Dan, put out the joint', and suddenly everyone starts hissing me! That's bullshit! Excuse me for calling a spade a spade, but since when do we stick up for the dealer's feelings? Whatever, you useless hippie. Stop playing guitar in the middle of class and walking around like you fucking invented the damn thing. Know what's worse than a douchebag playing guitar? A douchebag trying to play guitar.

That helped with my uncontrollabe rage. I hope you don't mind me shooting a hategasm all over your hair. Some people think that's good for your scalp.