Good

I wonder if that was a good thing.

It looked good,

on the surface.

I cannot lie, I prefer an iceberg.

A huge lethal mass beneath the water's surface.

What lies beneath kills.

Like it killed the Titanic.

Oh, I'm not talking about Jack and Rose's soppy love story.

No you-jump-I-jump rubbish. If you jump, good riddance to bad rubbish. Goodbye.

I'm dead serious here.

They said it was good, but I have my doubts.

Was this all planned? Because the circumstances look suspect.

I can smell a rat from a mile away,

but I can't smell anything now.

I feel it, though. The rat's somewhere.

It's probably alive. Burrowing, slinking,

Biting, pawing.

I'm going to find it, and I'm going to hack it in half.

Metaphorically.

Payback time for the bubonic plague.

And I'll sing a song for it.

I'll sing a song for the death of straightforward-let's-get-rid-of-the-crap.

People aren't capable of that anymore.

They're mostly two-faced, with tongues that cut, scratch and slash on both sides.

Medusa wasn't considered human, but wait till you see the humans we have around us.

Medusa'll seem tame.

So it's supposed to be good?

I'm not buying that.

I'm not a genius, but I'm not that stupid.

Allison Iraheta - Cry Baby


Not too happy that she was eliminated. She did kill that song, after all. Oh well.