Kids are interesting. I’m babysitting a 9 year old boy right now who’s homework is to write a fictional story and he wrote about how in millions of years the sun will expand killing everything and one man fell asleep at the beach and missed all the official announcements about the world ending but he managed to be the only survivor of the solar flares because he applied SPF 100 sunscreen.
my mind: GOATMAN! you feelin that? you feelin the goatman energy? feel some goat vibes? you may not like this, i’m gonna try to agitate it. i’m just gonna go – i’m just gonna be as crude as possible here. FUCK YOU, GOATMAN! is that good? no-no-no, i – just right out of the gate, why build up? i guess i can. GOATMAN, I’M DANCING ON YOUR BRIDGE, IT’S MY BRIDGE NOW. you hear that? you want me off this bridge, you’re gonna have to kILL ME. you’re gonna have to throw me off this bridge yourself. look at the way i dance on it. I DISRESPECT YOUR BRIDGE, GOATMAN. you hear that goatman? me and ryan bergara own your bridge. yep, yep. well then, tell ‘em, tell ‘em you’re not part of this. you’re talking to goatman, now. it’s goatman entrapment. goatman, they’re gonna put MY name in graffiti. children will come here and tell tales of ME.
I May or May Not be Steve Rogers 