Can't be too careful.
"And, perhaps most glorious of all, death, blissful, rapturous death, brings final escape from having to stand behind a fucking squirrel-headed, cantaloupe-colored idiot who is always just seconds away from telling the public they can avoid COVID-19 by blowing a hair dryer up their nostrils.”
"Ultimately, they just won't ventilate."
“Dying is the God-fearing, patriotic thing for these old, sick folks to do in order to revive our economy. No different from a soldier giving up his life by throwing himself on a hand grenade to save his beloved comrades, which, by the way, is exactly what I would have done, had I ever been in the army, in battle, and confronted by a live hand grenade in the presence of comrades who qualified as beloved.”
“I could wait until the mailman gets here, I guess, and just go for it. But I hate to just take out one old, fat divorced guy. Allah’s made it pretty clear you only get one virgin for that.”
“That’s why I love watching Ellen, dear. Her guests are always so . . . . relevant.”
"But still, it is very impressive how we've grown this."
The only way now to satisfy the enigmatic beast is to throw people directly into the pit.
Their new rescue bill.
“People who squander their life savings to cram into a floating toilet and gorge themselves like bloated roaches, just to get dumped off at a succession of filthy, tawdry ports and robbed by hateful locals, deserve suffering, at the very least.”