The Worst Thing I've Ever Written
copyright Audita Sum 2008

“What hast thou to say?” I verbally incurred. “Mine socks are that of an argyle persuasion.”

She eyed said ankle-insulators with dispassion and uttered syllabically, “Shut up, thou roguish primate-borne façade-face.”

“Thou dost jeer,” I murmured with immense prowess and scintillating wit, “And yet thou art but a morsel of shit on the face of God’s vernal and prolific earth.”

She sneered. “Sayeth thou what we have since evaded? Sayeth thou that I art a coward of at least the second degree? Take up thy weapon of mass destruction, pusillanimous clodhopper!” “Thou dost doubt mine awe-inspiring proficiency, wench?” I affirmed vocally. “For this thou must die as so far many deaths that thou will be alive no longer. Jihadists of all civilizations will not have aspirated for thy providence, which is forthcoming, that shalt be incurred bywhichwith mine own hands.”

“Jokest thou?” she inquisitioned gaily.

“Neigh,” responded I with a twisted grin of all trifles inherently superior and undulously pubescent. “There are a number of nomenclatural glyphs that I will now laboriously impart to thee, thou brutish bullnecked fiend: damn thee toward tartarus, for thou art a villain!”