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The way of the shinobi ends with me, Kawakami decided long ago. Kawakami roused himself from his daydream and rose from his chair to prepare himself a cup of tea, his rigid muscles begging him for just a few more moments of rest. He heard a knock as he moved toward the kitchen. Slowly, he turned, shuffled to his door, and opened it.
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Give me something to eat, the dirty boy in front of him demanded. He stared at Kawakami with steely eyes. His hair was matted. His clothes were soiled. He stunk worse than she looked. They only used to beg in the streets, Kawakami thought to himself. Their hunger is making them bold.

I watched in terror as the Mormons writhed in pain until their heavenly bodies fell dead – only to be reanimated and start screaming in agony again because the booze was still in their systems. I saw them rise and fall time and time again, weeping in woe and gnashing their teeth. Heaven was on fire. Babies screamed. The archangels were in a murderous rage. Men and women were conjoined in one endless, moaning body. The entire scene looked like it was straight out of… well…
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Hell.
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So, here I am in an elevator with only one button that says ‘DOWN’. It’s been dropping for what feels like longer than I was alive, maybe more. I don’t know what awaits me once the doors open after I get to my final destination. But one thing’s for certain once I get there…
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The guy that shot that three-pointer ain’t got nothing on me.

It wasn’t until the Mormons that I knew that spiking the punch was the biggest mistake of my afterlife. It wasn’t the archangel brawl that broke out after Michael king-punched Gabriel shouting “God doesn’t love band camp pussies!” It wasn’t the incestuous dance floor orgy with Noah dead center making a literal Ham sandwich with his son and his wife. And it wasn’t when Elijah set Limbo on fire with flat infanticide in his eyes. No, I knew it was a mistake once the Mormons started dropping like flies.
Everyone knew the Mormons didn’t drink. But no one knew it was because of a fatal allergy they all had that was passed down from generation to generation. Turns out they didn’t stay sober out of piety. They stayed sober because a sip of the drink was more lethal to a Latter-Day Saint than being a student in an American public school. Death was all but certain. And apparently, a shot of booze hurt a Mormon more than being shot with a bullet.

I literally cannot find one thing about this photo that does not look like an accident waiting to happen.

So basically stop commenting on FunSubstance.

So basically stop commenting on FunSubstance.