...their incessant begging and pleading does little to stifle the resolve that makes up the "legion". After all, soldiers, who act like men, are afforded a soldiers death, with a swift, honorable conviction.. These..... parasites... are neither men nor mammon, but rather an abstract art piece of ejaculatory failure, frought with the stench of perversion and cowardice. There is but only one way to silence their horrific deeds, and only an example will spread the word quickly enough,so that the idiot press cannot memory hole it, like everything else that harms the sheep. Flesh can be a tricky thing, if left in the hands of amatures. However, with the proper amount of force and imagination, one will find that manipulation with desired effect, can be as easy as shake n bake in the short bus. We don't like to fight with our judgements, so we cut off the hands and feet, so that they cannot hurt themselves(or others), and we seal off the offending stubs with a liberal amount of lye, gasoline(91 octane is most effective), and firecrackers(liberty!). When the song of their virtue reaches the right decibel, we bring out the cake in order to celebrate the souls liberation into the true void-our reality. They are not dead. No, they are on the fence, if you will, between life and death, and noone likes a quitter, so we inject "the cocktail" to raise their spirits and buy the boys some more time to extract their essence(and a confession too, perhaps). Once the screams have turned into a boring, melodious hum, it is now time to turn our attention to the eyes. The eyes that have witnessed unspeakable horrors, thefts, deception, subversion and the opening performances of nickleback. These jewels, must be preserved for future generations to study, so we simply pull these out(rather unceremonuosly as well, I might add), and pack the sockets with kosher salt. It is about this time, that the conscripted audience, begins to get queazy. In preparation for this, we have allocated stainless steel buckets for the relieving of motion sickness. Once previous meals have been deposited into a designated safe space, where future conscripts must fight in,for the right of a quick execution(should charges permit), we then have the strict attention of the crowd and we ask that all take a seat and recite the creed of judgement. And it goes as follows.. I (state your name) am here by choice of deed. I neglected to think for myself, so others thought for me. I abandoned and eshewed all manner of morality and decency, so my right to decency is declined. I behaved shamefully, so now I must myself be shamed. I falsely cried out in pain, so now must I, feel pain. Throughout my life, I manipulated the line, so now my place in line is now fixed. I declined mercy to all who breathe, so now must I struggle to breath without mercy. Once the last refrain of the creed has been spoken, the person being judged, is then helped onto their kneeds and asked to look to the heavens and ask whatever god they choose for forgiveness. Assuming that they are still lucid, now must be the time that two large spikes are jammed into their lungs, producing a collapsed lung on both sides. As they struggle to breathe, gasoline is poured on them and someone from the group must light the fire(this is usually entertaining, because they themselves usually catch on fire as well). As the offender burns away their misdeeds in the company of the corrupt, it is now time to put them out and away from our thoughts. the vomit from the buckets will now be used and honestly, its like the gift that just keeps giving. Most cant handle the stench, complaining that this is barbaric... this is evil.. this is inhumane...this is..... effective? no, this is the underworld.. we seize the unholy we punish the wicked this is our lot these are our pickings we come from hell to assure heaven has vacancies we enjoy our work in minecraft...