Kill, Tear Apart, Then Forgive

But when I go to collect my salary and they tell me that it is not ready yet, my first thoughts are always the same:

Kill. Then tear them apart.

When the bills for my cave arrive, my first thoughts are the same:

Kill. Then tear them apart.

When I go to the local fairy shop to buy some locally made tea, and they tell me the price, my first thoughts are:

Kill. Then tear them apart.

When every bench in my forest is broken or covered with garbage left behind by those ogres, my first thoughts are:

Kill. Then tear them apart.

When I go to work early in the morning and the elves are sitting on benches with their Bluetooth elf-speakers, staring at their smart maple leaves, and then I come back home and they are still sitting there, my first thoughts are:

Kill. Then tear them apart.

When my grandson comes home from the second-grade children's battlefield, and instead of the severed head of his defeated enemy he is carrying a brand-new hairstyle, a beautifully styled beard, and hair dyed in some hipster color so painful that my eyes hurt just looking at it... And he smells as if he has not been fighting great and powerful evil enemies at all, but has been fighting field flowers, roses, or pumpkins, my first thoughts are:

Kill. Then tear him apart.

When there are witches standing everywhere you turn, offering everyone some self-burning chimney that you put in your mouth, which smells pleasantly of weakness, disability, and death all at the same time, and they are selling this stuff to us instead of selling it to our enemies, my first thoughts are:

Kill. Then tear them apart.

When I go to the local hobbit reseller shop to buy fruits and vegetables, and there is so much chemistry in their apples that even the poison meant for Snow White has so much chemistry in it that it simply stops working, my first thoughts are:

Kill. Then tear them apart.

But what can you do?

Life must go on.

So I put on my climate-controlled thermal shirt with a deep neckline going all the way down to my magnificent belt. I put on my polished traditional wooden shoes with orthopedic foot support and adaptive suspension. I take my axe with aerodynamic openings and a GPS Death-and-Blood Meter.

I tuck a folding 5G knife into my belt, complete with ten-times zoom and touch-sensitive buttons.

Then I get into my self-driving, self-aware carriage that somehow already knows where I am apparently supposed to go. It runs on electric eels.

And I drive to a vegan tavern.

There, I will forgive all the people I wanted to kill, then tear apart.