Turnabout Bigtime

== Turnabout Bigtime ==
A hilariously incompetent defense. A prosecution bench ERPing oral sex during a testimony. Doc here. 
And a TWO DOC PAGE OLDBAG STATEMENT.
Yes. You read that right. Two page STATEMENT.
== The Oldbag CE ==
I swear, kids used to be far more respectful in my day! Of course, we'd be caned by our daddy's belt if we weren't, and though my sister Gruntilda seemed to like it too much, gosh darn it to fucking heck we learned some cunting manners! And we RESPECTED that belt, so we did, so we did, and after a while it was a case of "THANK YOU SIR, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER?!". 'course, I wouldn't expect you kids to understand that, seeing as how you're all limp-wristed pansies who don't seem to understand the meaning of hard work... just look at me, and you can see what kind of lean, mean, arm-breaking machine you could've been if corporal punishment was part of your miserable little lives! See these guns here? Lefty and righty? I can break your SOUL with these babies! My pinky can leave impressions in solid steel, unassisted! I have a six-pack under here that you can wash clothes on, and then feed a family of four off of afterwards! Don't think you can fuck with me, sonny boy! We're going to have a long & hard discussion about rising knee kicks very shortly! And I promise you, when we're done, you're going to have a squeakier voice than me or even Sebastian Debeste! I'll make you regret being born! I'll make you regret your father being born! I'll make you regret the universe even knowing the concept of birth! Don't think you can sidle up to me with your smug antics and push me over! I'm tougher than any demon you've ever encountered! I eat demons for breakfast! I devour angels for lunch! And so help me, I'm gonna start on hybrids for dessert! That's right! I don't even rank you high enough for dinner! Deities, those deserve to be dinner. But you? Nah! You've got a lotta nerve, but I'm going to strip that flesh down, salt the wound, dehydrate it and eat it in a couple of months' time as part of a lean, bodybuilding diet! I can make your life into such suffering you'll wanna die five times over, and it STILL won't be enough to let you escape from my EVER-LASTING BURNING ANGER. My fury makes the Hulk and Asura look like giggling schoolchildren suckin' on lemon candies! I've blown past the incandescent anger into the pools of tranquil, white-hot rage, and then I've blown past that into a loop back to screaming ire that rends the world, and that's just on a fucking Tuesday! I'd say that you'd be sorry, but it wouldn't even describe the sense of utter misery and insignificance that one iota of my glorious being can inflict upon your sorry, worthless carcass! There will be no part of your being, not even memetic, not even people who share part of your name or vaguely resemblance to you, not even simple objects with your name written down, that will survive the indelible horror of what I will unleash upon you with nary a twitch of a hair on the mole of my little toe! This fleshy, bony vessel is but another vector of a macrocosmic force that has existed before life! Before time! Before matter mattered, and entropy began! I am the eldritch horror to eldritch horrors! I am the thing that goes bump in the night! I am a primal agent of the original cosmic force, and when in strange eons even death dies, there will be but one entity remaining in non-space; and the distant chants of long-dead cultists seeping across near-dead moments of time drawn thin will whisper the final word of this existence, and the first of next to come of all time - Oldbag. And don't you forget it, whippersnapper!
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Category:Cases