Goals

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When I grow up I want to be a starring.

I will kill people left and right and have a wife who always pines for me and whom I think of during my killing sprees. Bad guys are going to come and kill my sweet angel, and in wrath shall I wreak havoc upon the villains, laying their land to waste in a sorrowful rage.

During the destruction I shall partner up with a cute tomboy who has gifts of saving me just in the nick of time from certain death and whom I shall treat with the utmost disdain. As time goes on I shall learn to stomach her whining and pestering, and one day she will go and take a bath at some pond in a forest and I shall unwittingly follow her, to see her strip nude and get into the water.

My love for her shall thus be awakened and we shall spend the rest of the time distributing death to all infidels as a tag team. I will get injured and she will nurse me back to health, then she will get captured and imprisoned in some dungeon and in trying to save her I shall get captured as well and subjected to sticks, sjamboks, rifle butts and cold water. However, I shall suffer no concussion, broken rib nor ill-health or pneumonia. Instead I shall somehow unravel the knot on the rope which binds me, while my tomboy seduces the horny guard who keeps watch by batting her eyelashes. She shall kick him in the balls and somehow get the key from his pockets with her teeth as he lies writhing in eternal pain. She will flick the key to me through a tiny window on the door and I shall unlock, get in and save her.

It is at that point that we shall take the guard’s weapon, kill another, take his weapon, and proceed to wind up the destruction as we make our great escape!

However, one last snag shall await us. The main bad, evil guy will block our way and somehow all our weapons shall run out of ammo. Me and the bad guy will go at it with our bare knuckles. Oh, he will lay a beating on me so thickly I shall end up lying face up, blood oozing from the corner of my mouth, but defiant and telling him shit. He shall slowly walk to me, smiling and aiming to finish me. As he raises a stone to crush my head, while telling me his life story, my tomboy (who by now would have lost all her boyishness and transformed into a fine figure of a maiden) shall flick a miraculous dagger to me. As my worthy foe raises the stone with savage abandon, I shall drive the dagger through his heart. My worthy foe shall drop the stone and still have the power to dispossess me of the dagger and stab me on my shoulder (what fortune I shall have). As my worthy foe bends down to finish me, blood still pumping out of his heart and yet still having the strength of ten men, my tomboy shall find another dagger, leap with the grace of a young doe and put the dagger through my foe’s throat. My foe shall turn, smile, say something witty, like, wow John (that will be my name), you have been saved by a bloody bitch, and then keel over, stone dead at last.

Then shall we walk out in triumph, with an enthusiastic hip-hop song playing in the background and my tomboy supporting me with herculean strength on her arm, for suddenly I shall be too weak to walk properly. As we leave the enemy’s base, which surprisingly turns out to be a cave somewhere in the Arabian desert, the whole background shall explode in flames (whoosh!), incinerating all evidence of our presence.

We shall then get married, me and my tomboy, and live happily ever after.

Until they kill her, of course, and the sequel starts, somewhat as detailed above…

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