Dear Camarilla friends,
Their time will come. Just like that no-good bootlegger got his dues, so will they all. Mark my words, I will make them pay. Whoever told that no-good assamite about us is as good as dead, and I sure hope all those traitorous bastards hide good and well, because I'm coming for them, each and every single one of them and I want to see the terror in their eyes when they realise there is no escape from their fate. There is no way out.
Don't you worry, when me and Tom find them in their rat-infested holes, we will drag their bloody corpses down the streets tied behind our bike like the Romans did. Then just as unlife is about to leave them, and the beast takes over, we'll feed them on the corpse-blood of maggots and insects, letting their own beasts tear their mind apart. You dare mess with us! We will show you what monsters we really are! We're not playing games here. The masquerade is the fight for our very survival, and these "Sabbat" wanna put us all on the line with their propoganda and ego-driven sadism. Damn em all. Let's burn the image of sunlight and fire into their minds, make em think twice before they call themselves monsters and think us weak. Don't let the fear rule you! Harness your nature! Let fear be your ally, not your enemy!
And here's what I have to say to the Sabbat: You will get the monster you created! You can't create a monster, then whine when it stomps on a few buildings!
With the greatest affection,
John Riviera
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4 comments:
Damn right my friend! This is getting personal now, and they better be prepared for a fight. We're not the push overs they think we are. We have our own weapons, but contrary to them we don't brag about them and announce them to the world.
They are like a rusty nailboard swinging wildly. Intimidating, but essentially crude and easy to avoid. We're like a scalpel. Silently lobotimising them in the dark. By the time they notice that they're drowing in a pool of their own saliva, its already too late!
Christ, you guys scare me sometimes. Hard to tell who's crazier...
But yeah. Kick their asses, and all that.
Dear Lola,
When hunting the snake, one doesn't become the mouse. When hunting the snake, one must become the hawk!
Sincerely,
John Riviera
Yeah, and I'm sure you know all about becoming the hawk, right kid?
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