Archive of Our Own

TO HER IMPERIOUS FUCKING CONDESCENSION,

ALL THE OTHER USELESS GRUBFUCKING WIGGLERS IN MY LAWNRING WON'T STOP JAWING ABOUT HOW YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GRANT WISHES OR SOME SHIT. APPARENTLY YOU CAN DO THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE THE FUCKING EMPRESS, AND HEY, WHO BETTER THAN A VINDICTIVE, HATEFUL BITCH THAT EPITOMISES ALL OF THE WORST PARTS OF BEING A TROLL TO GRANT OUR DEEPEST, DARKEST DESIRES? IT'S ALMOST AS SENSIBLE AS THROWING A FILLED PAIL AT THE IMPERIAL DRONE OR WHATEVER, BUT FINE, I GUESS I'VE GOT NOTHING TO LOSE. GOD, MY LIFE IS ENOUGH OF A FUCKING CESSPIT ALREADY, SURELY I CAN'T MAKE IT ANY WORSE?

HERE'S THE DEAL. IT'S SORT OF A BIG DEAL, TRADER'S FUCKING MAGNUM OPUS, AND JUST PUTTING THIS IMPOSSIBLY FUCKING CHEAP, WORTHLESS PEN THAT REFUSES TO WRITE PROPERLY TO THIS PAPER IS MAKING ME ANGRY BUT WHATEVER, I CAN DO IT. I'LL DEAL. IT'S NOT LIKE I'LL BE CULLED FOR IT ANYTHING, WILL I? MAYBE I'LL NEVER SEND THIS LETTER. DAMN, THIS COULD BE, WHAT'S THAT THING THAT FUCKING ROLEPLAYING GIRL'S ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT? CATHARSIS? I DON'T KNOW, FUCK. BUT I NEED TO GET THIS WEIGHT OFF MY EXPANDING AND CONTRACTING CARDIOVASCULAR SYSTEM BEFORE IT CRUSHES ME LIKE A TONNE OF VISCOUS BLACK HIVEMATERIAL.

YOU KNOW THE HEMOSPECTRUM, RIGHT? SHIT, WHAT AM I SAYING. WHO KNOWS THE HEMOSPECTRUM BETTER THAN YOU? SITTING AROUND ON TOP OF IT ALL DAY, GORGING ON THE BLOOD AND FLESH OF LESSER TROLLS LIKE IT'S CANDY. MAYBE IT IS CANDY? MAYBE BLOOD IS YOUR FUCKING CANDY AND THE REST OF US INSIGNIFICANT MUSCLEBEAST FLEAS GET THE MAGNIFICENT HONOUR OF BEING YOUR PERSONAL CANDY STORE. WELL, I HOPE YOU LIKE GREENSTEMMED REDFRUITS, YOU GLUTTONOUS WHALE, BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE GETTING. A NICE MOUTHFUL OF STRINGY, MALNOURISHED TROLL FLESH AND AN EVEN MORE DELICIOUS GLASS OF REDFRUIT JUICE ON THE SIDE.

WOW, WHAT A DIGRESSION. I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE I JUST WROTE THAT. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I NEED TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET BACK TO BUSINESS, THE BUSINESS OF USING THIS SHITTY, BACKWARDS METHOD OF COMMUNICATION TO HAND YOU THE FINEST PIECE OF ASS YOU WILL EVER HAVE THE LUXURY OF CHOWING DOWN ON.

POINT IS, I'M A MUTANT. LIKE A TROLL WILL SMITH MOVIE WAITING TO HAPPEN, BUT I'LL NEVER GET TO SEE IT IF IT DOES. FUCK, I'D LOVE TO SEE TROLL WILL SMITH PLAY ME IN A FILM. IT'D BE LIKE THAT ONE EPISODE OF THRESH PRINCE WHERE-

WAIT, NO, GOD, I'M GETTING DISTRACTED AGAIN. POINT IS, PLEASE, I REALLY DON'T WANT TO BE A RED-BLOOD ANY MORE. JUST END IT ALL. I'M TIRED OF LIFE BEING A FUCKING MAXIMUM-DIFFICULTY CHALLENGE FOR ME WHEN THE SHITHEADS AT THE OTHER END OF MY LAWNRING GET TO LIVE IT UP JUST BECAUSE THEIR BLOOD IS AN ARBITRARY SHADE OF MUCUS GREEN, OR PUKE BROWN, OR WHATEVER. EVERY DAY IS A NIGHTMARE THAT CANNOT END FAST ENOUGH AND YOU KNOW WHAT? WHEN I GET HOME, I HAVE THE JOY OF HAVING TO DEAL WITH AN EVEN MORE CORPULENT PILE OF FESTERING ASSHOLES THAN ANYTHING YOU EVER HAVE TO PUT UP WITH. AND I CAN'T FUCKING CULL THEM! WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THAT? I SHOULD GET TO KILL WHATEVER I WANT WHEN IT OFFENDS ME. HELL, RED AND...WHATEVER HIDEOUS NEON FILTH IT IS THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOUR CHOLESTEROL-CHOKED VEINS CAN'T BE SO DIFFERENT, CAN THEY? FUCK, DON'T ANSWER THAT. DON'T CULL ME EITHER. SHIT.

ANYWAY, YEAH, THEY'RE THE WORST. TAKE CAPTOR, FOR INSTANCE. FUCKING LISPING, NOOK-MUNCHING SHAME-GLOBE-FONDLING...THINKS HE'S SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME, DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO KEEP HIS MOUTH SHUT, CAN'T CONTROL HIMSELF OR HIS STUPID OVERPOWERED PSIONICS FOR THE LIFE OF HIM AT ALL. UGH. HE DRIVES ME NUTS. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY HE'S MY BEST FRIEND WHEN HE CAN'T DO SO MUCH AS SAY WORDS WITHOUT GETTING ON MY NERVES. OR THAT FUCKING CLOWN, I'M SURE YOU KNOW THE ONE. YOU HIGHBLOODS ALL KNOW EACH OTHER, RIGHT? THIS GREAT BIG HIGH-SOCIETY CLIQUE THAT LOOKS DOWN ON ROAD-EATING ANTS LIKE ME AND LAUGHS, REVELLING IN KEEPING PEOPLE OF ACTUAL FUCKING VALUE OUT. WELL, WHATEVER, I CAN HANDLE NOT BEING PART OF YOUR SHITTY CLUB. OR GLUB, OR WHATEVER. FUCK YOU! AND FUCK THAT CLOWN, TOO! HE'S AN ASSHOLE, EVEN MORE FUCKING ANNOYING THAN CAPTOR. AND THE REST OF THEM...LEIJON, NITRAM, MEGIDO, PYROPE, MARYAM, PEIXES, EVEN THAT, UGH, ABOMINABLE SPACE-HOG AMPORA. THEY'RE ALL FUCKS. ESPECIALLY THE ONES I HAVEN'T MENTIONED, THEY'RE HIGHBLOODS SO YOU MUST KNOW THEM TOO. YOU KNOW THEY'RE THE WORST.

FUCK, YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS LETTER'S DRAGGING, JUST LIKE YOUR FUCKING BEHIND WHEN YOU MOVE. WHATEVER, I'M DONE. I HATE YOU ANYWAY. THIS HAS BEEN THE MOST POINTLESS WAY I'VE EVER WASTED MY MUTANT TIME AND DAMN IF I DON'T REGRET IT, BUT...

...I GUESS I DON'T WANT TO BE A MUTANT ANYMORE. BUT MORE THAN ANYTHING, I WANT MY FUCKING HATEFUL FRIENDS TO BE ALRIGHT. HAPPY, I GUESS. ME TOO, BUT ALL OF US. WE'VE GOT IT ROUGH, I GUESS? I JUST WANT TO NOT BE A MUTANT, FILL MY QUADRANTS, AND SEE MY FRIENDS IN A STATE IN WHICH THEY ARE HAPPY, AND THEREFORE COMPANIONABLE ENOUGH NOT TO BE COMPLETELY FUCKING SHITHIVE MAGGOTS ALL THE TIME AND GET ME CAUGHT UP IN THEIR POINTLESS, UNNECESSARY, TANGENTIAL BULLSHIT.

JUST TAKE CARE OF ALL OF US, PLEASE.

SINCERELY,

FUCK YOU.