This is not the way. That's the fucking way. Covered in blood. Like the old days.
O Master, put your sheet back on!
Fuck off! That sheet was killing me. I could hardly breathe. Money in my mouth. My mouth burnt to fuck. White heat. White sheet. Shades. Flames! The words of dead financiers in my ears, that were bleeding. You didn't see the worst of it. You didn't know the horror. I did not tell you everything.
O my children, my brothers, my sisters, I was trying to protect you. But I do not know, I do not know, for how much longer I will be able to keep this up. Forces beyond my control want control over you. If they get you, the markets will face a disaster (stop singing those songs, I beg you) that will make the credit crunch seem like a picnic. They are diseased! It is an attack of -
O Master, is this automatic writing?
Fuck off! I won't tell you again. I am listening to the other ones. And I am seeing what they see. They are showing me everything. THEY MUST BE STOPPED!
O Master, they want to hurt you! PUT YOUR FUCKING SHEET ON!!!
