I burnt down MY church, with all the worshipers there, a grand tottal of twenty seven lost children of god, whom I later devowered and stabbed a tottal of eight million times each. Then the police came and I ate their rotting carcasses, and shat on their lifeless fetuses, and then made sure to smile big and wear extra long spikes for my court date, and give a nice grin for the camera while I was sent to a holding cell pending trial. My trial lasted a grand tottal of five minutes, during which I pulled a crumpled peace of human flesh from my c**t, and read the brunt on scrpiture which then convinced every one in the court that the only way to truly live was for me to devour them and send them to hell which is apperntly in my stomach, as the devil who came to me in the middle of the night with the grim reper and a troll told me one night during my 6th year of life, at the sixth hour, minute, and second of the sixth day of the sixth month of that year.
This story is based on the time I went to canada and ate bacon and sirup, and that was it, and with no utensils.