Oh man, just you wait. I got seven more months to really do a number on this cunt. Think about it: I’m taken up residence, make her puke a bunch, give her headaches, get her all worked up so she’ll get pissed off at some innocent old sap…and, here’s the best part, I’m gonna steal as many nutrients as possible. Parasite, you ask? Pah! Such a term for my occupation doesn’t do my line of work justice. Mine…oh man, it’s so much worse.
I know these sweet digs I have here, sac and all, aren’t going to last as long as I’d like. It’s small, cozy, and free, and I understand it’s a temporary arrangement, but hey, I didn’t ask to be born, did I? Hmm, I should save that for later, if we get in a fight or something.
She thinks she has it bad now, what with the constant war for nutrients I’m waging, oh man, wait until you hear this: I’m going to try to break open her vaginal canal by punching through it. I’m gonna wait until I’m larger, obviously, and we’ll see how she screams and moans as I burrow my way out of there. It’s gonna be so great.
Don’t worry, I have a back-up plan if the doctor slices me out of here: I’m going to grow up to be a crippling disappointment. I’ll be a drop-out, drug-addict, drag queen who works at, and finances, a liquor store two blocks from the elementary school. That’s how you hit them the hardest. And who said homosexuality wasn’t a choice? That’s like, the most brilliant tactic for this sort of thing.
The best part is that I can still blame her for all of it, and she’ll feel bad for it! And if she doesn’t, it gives me the best sob story ever. “She doesn’t care for me at all,” blah blah blah. Get some sympathy pussy, maybe. Hmm, that’s the best. So delicious. I hope to ravage one in no time, assuming this all goes according to plan.
