| Y’know, back in outer space we used to drink — a lot
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| We used to take all kinds of kick-ass drugs
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| And showed blatant disrespect for any authority figures
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| Little did we know we were undermining our entire value system…
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| At that time I was serving in the Masters 3rd Scumdog Legion
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| aboard a planetary infection barge, attempting to obey a host of confusing orders, but mostly satisfying only our lust for
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| slaughter ravingly drunk half the time, I only realized a battle
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| had started when I heard the roar of the fleets plasma
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| bombardment. |
| Piling into
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| our armored assault pods we began our descent to the planets
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| pulverized surface. |
| We were met by a flight of primitive
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| interceptors which we devastated with soaring blast of nuclear
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| hatred, flashing through the debris cloud into the atmosphere
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| below.
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| The obliteration of Flab Quarv 7
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| On the horizon was the blazing outlines of a bombed city, the
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| outlying areas dotted with flaming craters and fleeing refuges
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| I vomited out the window and led our battalion on a blazing attack
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| on the non-combatants pulpifying their flesh in a rain of sulfuric
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| plasma burst. |
| The mass mutilation of a world ensued, with those
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| not being fit for slave labor being herded into gigantic flaming
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| pits. |
| We laughed as several thousand years of cultural development
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| were wiped out in a single blundering instant.
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| Gorged on guts, gouged out eyes
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| Captives fill the breeding hive
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| Desecrate their sovereign world
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| Bloated, bloody, drunken churl
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| Cultures crumble, races die
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| Stench of midgets fill the sky
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| Smashing skulls with ghastly crunch
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| Pretty soon we’ll break for lunch
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| Later, as we flew through deep space
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| Ritually disemboweling our victims
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| The navigator informed us that we Attacked the wrong planet.
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| Hehehehehahaha
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| The obliteration of Flab Quarv 7 |