What an insufferable, thin skinned, cry-baby bitch ass faggot.
I used to say that I couldnt wait until he would just have a heart attack and fucking die, but I've changed my mind.
I want him to have another motherlode of all strokes. One that totally takes away the rest of his limb use, including the prehensile, Venom-esgue tongue. I want his sense of taste totally nuked, and his sight and hearing dulled, but not removed. I want his soy-boy voice and ability to speak gone completely. In a perfect world, I would like for him to keep or even regain his sense of touch, but alas, I doubt thats possible with strokes.
Then I want for him to be left in the house alone one day, Ham-Tam out at work. I want the fat faghot to shit himself and just sit there for a few hours unable to do anything. Then I want that Shit-Bull they are keeping to wander upon him, and dive right into that fat fucking face of his like it was a hot and juicy Pulpok hot off the smoker. I want Tammy to find him just in time to save him from death, but not after the starved dog has eaten every digit, ears, lips, nose, eyes, and cheeks.
I then want him to survive like this, long enough to go to Disneyland again one last time. I want him to hear people point and gasp at his appearance before he finally gets wheeled back into his hotel room, and in a fit of strained constipation, has his last and finally stroke and leaves this world like the curse upon humanity that he is.
HATS! GIVE ME MY HATS, I SAY. I WANT THEM ALL!