Happiness is Chris Farley, carved like a Thanksgiving Turkey. Happiness is a nymphomaniac lobbyist. Happiness is when the blood of the unbeliever splatters everywhere, yet doesn't land on your wool jacket. Happiness is a canister of nerve gas, a large satchel, and a good running start. Happiness is a hug.
Happiness is fear and ignorance.
Just trust me on this one. Happiness is the crotch rot coming under control. Happiness is that charming little creaking noise the rack makes during the first turn. Happiness is the skin peeling off in large, satisfying sheets. Happiness is bouncing the rubble.