Tai Must Die!

The idea of playing God has intrigued mankind for centuries. From Prometheus to Frankenstein, humankind has had a keen interest in upstaging the master. I, of course, am no different. Why do you think I teach college? For the academic pursuit of an absolute truth, a Platonic ideal? No, it's so I can lord it over a bunch of 18-year-old retards who must kiss my ass to get a grade. Well, not really, but the 18-year-old retards probably think so.
However, the problem with playing God is that you can never control your creation. Case in point: the hip-hop loving, break dancing dipshit Tai.

This fucker is really pissing me off. You'd think that, as his creator, and therefore, God or deity or whatever you want to call it, the bastard would show some respect. Like invite one of his whores to be my friend, I mean, he's got enough of them. How many whores do you need? The little shit gathered 15 of them in one week, who knows what would happen if I let this go on any longer.
Which brings me to the point. Tai, you are going down my friend. Oh, yes. The end of days is coming for you, shitheel. You had better watch your back, Loverboy. As your Lord and Creator, I can bring down any wrath I wish. It could come right in the middle of an air baby with you thinking you look mad sweet...and BAM! I'll pop your ass straight to hell, boy!
Oh yes, it's only a matter of when and where my little MySpace whore. When...and... where.