Soliloquy of an Irate Second-Grade Chess Champion

"See here, fucker.

In my other life, I was 

the Kryptonic fear in 

Superman's eyes.  I was 

Optimus Prime's worst nightmare.  I could

crush you with the sheer

iron-clad

bladder-clenchin'

bed-wettin'

balls-poppin' grip of my

MIND.

You don't wanna move your rook there.

Trust.

You really wanna test the wrath of this

Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger?

I got skillz, buttbrain.

I will eat your soul

for breakfast, lunch

and dinner.

Don't think I won't.

Will TOO.

Look how many of your li'l 

pathetic, wasted peons I killded

with my bare hands.

Don't you FUCKING laugh at me.

I will so bust out my can of 

second-grade Ninja Turtle whoop-ass 

on your skinny li'l

weasel face.  And I'll tell Miz Rose

you fell outta your chair

and my King just happened to be sittin'

on the floor 

where your ass-crack landed.

Who's she gonna believe?

The li'l weasel boy who sucks at chess?

I don't THINK so.

Your move, hot shit.  Wait--no!

No way, no way in poopy HELL you just 

moved your doo-doo headed bishop

to my knight

you sonuvabitch!

That's IT!  You were warned,

stupid clowny weasel boy.

So now...

I'm gonna tell on your jerky ass 

so fast

you won't know what hit you."