So you think you can go around berating the locals, treating people like whipping posts to stroke your giant ego? I was going to buy something to read and you told me to leave. Why? Because you were having a bad day? Well Mr. Fattypants, soon you will fall. Your supermarket is far, far from super. I asked around about you and it is obvious that those who work in your building are of the mind to carve off your flab-laden man titties and give you your just desserts. You will pay, tyrant. Remember me when your giant, black pig heart explodes beneath the weight of your enormous, pink frame. While you're cold and alone inside gray walls with tubes in your chest, you will hear a sound. An unfamiliar tickle in your porkfuck ear. That sound will be my laughter, and the laughter of all those around you rejoicing. Fremont will be far more free without you, asshole.