There was a day two winters ago, I was fuming with anger. You didn't need any special siddhis to be able to smell the fury from miles away. I was betrayed. I was insulted. Everything I held dear was spat upon.

As I paced around thinking about how best to erase one person from existence, a Master appeared and began a conversation with me.

He told me of a man who had incensed him. To be insulted by a wise man was an honor. But to be insulted by an ignorant idiot was is repugnant. It would be a service to society at large to exterminate this pest.

So the Master reached for his sword to sever the idiot's unworthy head. It would have happend faster than the moron could blink. This is when it occurred to my Master that this punishment was not nearly enough. The ignoramus would have to be made to suffer the rest of his life.

The Master swung his sword to sever the fool's legs, arms, and tongue from out of his mouth all in one blinding lightning strike. The legs, so that the ass would never be able to spread his shit. The arms so he would never be able point out any of his foolery. And his tongue so he would never be able to speak his idiocy.

But then, just as quickly, it occurred to the Master that without legs, the egotistical dolt would be unable to go places where he'd make more enemies. So his legs were spared in the interests of letting retribution against him continue to amass. Just before his disembodied arms plopped down to the ground, the Master realized that few honorable men would strike an armless trollop. So with one surgically precise flip of his ghostly sword, the nimrod would have to see his own tongue ejected from his mouth.

This is when the Master realized the most viscious and vengeful retribution he could lay upon the head of this strumpet. His tongue was what got him in the most trouble. So the blade of the sword would have to exact the most venomous of lacerations. It would cut away any possibility that the nincompoop would ever be freed from his tongue.

The Master walked away never drawing his sword, laughing -- avenged.

PS. I begged a master on bloody knees for the secrets in my new ebook. Save yourself a perfectly good pair of jeans. Just buy it. http://master.journik.com

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