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I had a dream that some organized crime group (led by a guy who looked like Kazuya Mishima from Tekken) offered me power and money in exchange for me doing their bidding. I was skeptical at first, until, like Satan tempting Jesus, they showed me all the worldly pleasures they had at their disposal. My books would become instant best-sellers, I could influence world politics, I could get revenge on my enemies. All I had to do was occasionally kidnap or torture or kill a usually-innocent person; was that too much to ask?

I accepted. I accepted like a little bitch. I sold out to evil. But what drove me over the edge into accepting this deal with the devil? The food. These Yakuza fucks had a chef who prepared a top-tier ice cream cone for me, and that sugary shit was the tastiest thing I ever ate in my life. I submitted to the yoke of evil over freaking ice cream.

If such a situation ever happened in real life (To me, a peasant with no connections and a contempt for rich people? Unlikely.) I like to think I would do what Guts would do when the devil Ganishka made a deal with him. But my dream told me the truth: I would stupidly go along with it. I'd do it and I'd hate myself and I'd pretend I was using my power for good, but it would be a filthy-ass lie to cover my shameful lack of courage.

Don't be a faggot-ass monster.

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