>>12670257>"That's simple. I'm always angry."You give Freddie an incredulous stare, but considering the fact that he just saved you from forcible anal rape by way of furries, you aren't about to question his logic.
"Look, Freddie, you seem to be keen on some of this shit, so I'm going to ask you a bunch of questions that may blow your mind -- or maybe not. One: does Boss Nigger still want the Iraq Veteran's kid dead? Two: did Lord Yifferyang really kidnap my mom and Ol' Dirty Bastard? Three: why does Obama want to stop Boss Nigger?"
You watch Freddie take a deep breath. It seems like he's about to answer your questions, when all of a sudden, a door opens, and a man puts a cocked revolver to Mercury's head.
In a flash, the rest of the band draws on the mysterious assailant, but not even Queen would be willing to risk accidentally shooting Freddie Mercury as a hostage. They eye each other, and you're forced to watch.
But, to your amazement, the assailant isn't some run-of-the-mill furry. No -- it can't be true. It fucking CAN'T BE TRUE.
It's the goddamn Mod.
"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD," you scream. "I PUT A BULLET IN YOU MYSELF!"
"You stupid motherfucker," quips the Mod. "You've been around long enough to know the truth. Mods equal gods."
"No, it's a fucking trick," you cry, frantically grasping at straws.
"It's no trick. I'm working for _____________. I've been on board all along, and you and Boss Nigger will never leave this country alive. Do you know why?"
"Fuck your games," you utter.
"I'll tell you why. It's because I have ___________ in my control at this very moment. You don't have a snowball's chance in hell."
If that's true, you muse, then there is truly no hope left for us.
>4 or 0 gets it. 
