Dear Mr. J'onn Sinew Nu:
I bet you are wondering why I haven't appeared in your office. It is easy to explain.
I'm onto you; I'm onto you and your robot scheme. You want to know who I am, what my "persona" is.
Well let me tell you something, Mr. Sinew Nu. I am more than a mere mortal. It is my destiny to be an alien god, to show humanity their destiny and liberate them from the robots!
This Gladiator contest is merely a front. You have taken the greatest soldiers in the multiverse and distracted them with this game and quest for fame and profit, but not me! I will destroy you and your evil empire.
Merchandising? Ha, I laugh in your face! I have soared among the clouds, and that is a greater joy than any material gift could be. Do you know what makes the toys and clothes we buy? Robots! Do you know what broadcasts the shows we watch? Robots!
(I wouldn't mind marketing my own brand of sneakers though. Imagine: Air West...but no! I will not give up my integrity as an alien! Never!)
My quest is pure; I shall smite your corporate regime, just as I smote that drunken cheerleader who thought I was a loser. Your insidious corporate plot is no match for me. I bide my time until the day when I can hoist you far into the mesosphere, hurl you to the ground, and cast your broken limbs into the volcanoes of Hacknor and Hawaii.
Everything you have built will fall under the might of WEST ROSEN, DESTROYER OF WORLDS!
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Love,
West Rosen
PS: Just look outside your window. I dare you.
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3 comments:
A mentally deranged robot killer who flies? You're like that one chick from the Transformers comic only less lame, I presume.
Smite a corporation? Can't be done. Am I right, Bennet?
Hmm....smiting The Man. I think that's best left to our Rastafarian brothers.
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