That’s awkward. Anyway let’s get back to the basics, because we got a live threat here and there’s no more approaching failures to remind us of past debts. This is it boy-o, and if you think you’re getting past my guard, you got another story to take part in. This is the one where I look you in the eye, you draw your sword, I chop off your motherfucking dome piece. Don’t worry about it, I’ve been down this way plenty of times and I can see that scared look in your eye asking me when relief will come. I can tell you this; but only in a very material sense. See, it dulls my blade, making unnecessary cuts you know what I’m saying? So I’m just gonna go real light on your right-- I know you could have killed me already while I’m talking, punk ass poser. Don’t give me that look now. Anyway, I can tell you that relief will come only once your wound has been bleeding for three minutes. See, when I say your dome piece is going off, I'm just flipping it right?. I mean, 3 minutes; that's when all signs of life is gone from you. That's relief from this world, isn't it? I can only give what I think relief is, so I can't fully tell you. Maybe you'll tell me. Or maybe that scared look in your eye is gone now, but maybe it isn't. I'm not gonna tell you because you already know. How come you didn't try to kill me, my hand is no where near my sword..
Hm, when all life is gone from you indeed. I gave you 3 minutes, but who knows what that soul is bound for? Fuck it, I say. Let our own souls roam where they choose, in this life and the next!