I am the squid. Tell your mom to brace herself. I’m squirting ink all over your front lawn, rolling around in the dirt, ruining your little sister’s jumpsuit, springing my claws, and coupling in earnest with the kitchen sink. I ripped your poster of Keanu Reeves, because I am the best squid that you should be having faith in. My ink is jet black; it’s all over the countertop now. I’m driving a school bus that I stole from the government and storing your loved ones inside a tabernacle that is well-buttered. (You can never have enough butter.)
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