“Lemme tell y’all about trickle down banganomics.”
“It’s simple.”
“In every group, there’s a hierarchy of fucking. At the top of the pyramid are your quarterbacks, your show-offs, and your smooth talkers.”
“These guys get the first pick of any pussy or ass that comes around them. The prettiest chicks and the cutest dudes go home with them, thinning out the herd.”
“Next you have your linemen, silent-but-cutes, and confident but ugly dudes. They pick up the ones who didn’t get picked first.”
“And lastly? You got the third string, the crows and vultures of each group that pick at the bottom of the barrel.”
“While their more successful friends get all the hotties and superstars, they’re stuck at the bottom picking at the land whales and fugly dudes.”
“These vultures follow their more successful friends everywhere, waiting in the shadows desperately as every tasty piece of ass gets grabbed right before their very eyes.”
“At the end of the night their choices of honeys trickle down to them like sloppy seconds down a hooker’s leg.”
“They get their dick wet because the leader of the group lets them.”
“And without them, they’d be stuck jerking it at home.”
“It must burn deep down knowing that you’re the vulture of Death’s little friend group, Corvie.”
“Every week you sulk into the Slaughterhouse, moving from shadow to shadow watching the every movement of the many eligible bachelors and bachelorettes hanging inside.”
“Eligible for what you ask?”
“A little knife extreme knife play. Some garrote addled breathplay.”
“I’m talking about the sweet sweet climax in your pants you call death.”
“That’s your whole thing, ain’t it?”
“You walk into OSW at the heels of Death itself. He’s the leader of your group, the big swinging dick that ends lifes left and right with a thrust so strong it makes their souls quiver.”
“And anyone that isn’t worth his time? The nameless nerds and douchey twinks? They get relegated to you.”
“It’s trickle down banganomics in action, Corvie. You only get that knife wet and that garrote tight because the souls Death doesn’t care enough about to kill himself are sent right to you.”
“You’re the vulture in the shadows, the B-team of death slinging and down-dicking that gets a hold of Death’s sloppy seconds.”
“And you love it, don’t ya?”
“Because without him, you’d just be another creeper sharpening his knife in the dark hoping for the chance to use it.”
“And when it comes to trickle down, you’ll know that I’m out of your league.”
“I ain’t some nobody for you to shove your lil prick into. I’m the kinda guy that demands a bigger dick and a better fuck.”
“If you wanna put me down then you better be Death himself because I ain’t gonna settle for anyone less.”
“So get out that little knife and let me laugh.”
“Because at the end of the night, I’m gonna leave you high and dry.”
“Now put your head between my legs and kiss your win goodbye.”