Take their soul and all their organs. I do not know exactly how I would do it. I don't like preplanning. Ad lib is so much more fun.

NO, I AM FIERCE.

FEAR ME, MORTAL.

GRRRRRR.

>:ccccccc

WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO.
THE ANSWER IS NO. >:c

*As if.*

STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO.

Kill all witnesses.

"You humans suck."
I'd hang real bodies from the billboards.
On fire.

Idiots leaving loose ends.

*She waits a single moment, her eyes never moving from him.* You keep watching and I will know. I will track you. And I will find you. And I will RIP OUT YOUR DAMNABLE EYES AND FEED THEM TO YOU! *There's another gesture, another gust. But this time, it morphs into full-on fire. Looool, bro. Better run. She gettin' MAD up in this bitch.*

TOO MUCH MACARONI.

Dead babies, apparently.
I do not know. I think they are funny.
New mothers do not seem to, though.

Marvin, was in the hospital on his death bed. The family called Marvin’s Preacher to be with him in his final moments. As the Preacher stood by the bed, Marvin’s condition seemed to deteriorate, and Marvin motioned for someone to quickly pass him a pen and paper. The Preacher quickly got a pen and paper and lovingly handed it to Marvin. But before he had a chance to read the note, Marvin died. The Preacher feeling that now wasn’t the right time to read it put the note in his jacket pocket. It was at the funeral while speaking that the Preacher suddenly remembered the note. Reaching deep into his pocket the Preacher said “and you know what, I suddenly remembered that right before Marvin died he handed me a note, and knowing Marvin I’m sure it was something inspiring that we can all gain from. With that introduction the Preacher ripped out the note and opened it.
The note said “HEY, YOU ARE STANDING ON MY OXYGEN TUBE!”

Something that will not be allowed to happen.

Be a milkman.

You'd be surprised how much you can get away with. Trust me.

/I know./

Spelunk..

I have a dead baby in a jar that's rather funny.

*She smacks against the wall, sliding down it slowly and comically before hitting the ground with a slightly hollow thump.* CALL ME BY MINE FIRST, FAGBALLS.

... Unless I decide to adopt "Eggladon". It does sound rather sinister. *She pauses a moment to right herself before scratching her chin.*
Eggladon.
/Egg/ladon.
Egg/la/don.
Eggla/don/.

*She then points dramatically in the air, holding up part of her super loose robe as she tromps heroically towards Nav.*

JASKAN EGGLADON VETIS CHARGES THE HERO WITH THE UTMOST REVERSE-VITALITY AND SINISTER-NESS.

There's a small town south of here. I am going to harass them, posing as Death.

Fun times for all.