I once knew a kid with the foulest mouth you ever heard.

Didn’t matter where he was or who was listening, every word out of his mouth was filth. Cursing, swearing and being as loud and obnoxious as he could, just to see how far he could push it.

During my Funhouse days, I had to stop the show more times than I care to admit because of that little terror. He’d sit there, chugging soda like it was water, spitting venom at everyone in the building.. fans, crew, even me.

And no matter what I did, no matter how much I tried to set him straight, he wouldn’t listen. His parents weren’t around, his mind was even further gone, and in the end?

I failed him.

I don’t say that lightly. I tried. I really did. But I was too soft, too worried about becoming something I swore I’d never be. I didn’t want to be like my own father; abusive, cruel and punishing every mistake with a fist. I dreaded the thought of becoming anything like that man.

So I held back. I thought if I just kept talking, just kept trying to reach him, I could change him. But some kids? They don’t need a friendly hand. They need discipline.

And the last I heard? That same kid is sitting on Death Row for robbery and murder.

It didn’t have to be that way. Maybe if I’d been tougher.. maybe if I’d taken a harder line, knocked some damn sense into him; he wouldn’t have ended up there. All I needed to do was be the father figure neither of us had. I just needed to show him that someone cared enough to go that extra mile to make a difference in his life. I was too selfish, Hatchet. I let that child run wild because I was afraid. I played a part in his becoming the monster he became and I carry that with me every single day.

I won’t make that mistake again.

Hatchet, you’re nothing but another foul-mouthed child with no respect, no self-control, and no discipline. You run your mouth like it makes you tough, like screaming at the world makes you matter.

But I know better.

You’re lost. You’re undisciplined. And you think because no one’s ever stepped up to set you straight, no one ever will. Everyone has looked past you like a lost cause and allowed you to be just like that boy I failed. A thief. A liar. A killer. You’ve made more mistakes than even I can care to count and it’d be easy for me to look past you like everyone else. It’d be easy for me to wash my hands of you and let you fall through the cracks, just like my biggest failure. I could simply.. hold back.

Well, kid… I’m done holding back.

On Warzone, I’m washing your mouth out with soap. I’m shutting you up the hard way.

And maybe.. just maybe.. you’ll finally learn a little discipline.

I hope, for your sake, it sticks.

Because I’ve seen where boys like you head if it doesn’t..