Everyday I have the most curious dreams of sawing women in half. Whether I proffer unto them mercy of bludgeoning them unconscious before sawing them in half, or if I tie to them to my bedchambers and use my rusty saw to cleave their body in half, amidst a cacophony of agonising shrieks remains irrelevant. The truth of the matter is that this isn't a dream, it's just an average day, for your average jo, Dr Herring. I love my job, there is nothing I wish to covet more than copious maidens, who I can saw in half. But that's not the best part, one of my most illicitly pleasurable activities is transporting them, via a golf bag, to a pond and feeding them to the ducks, my waterpond children, man's best friend. They always squark in delight as I deliver my latest batch of vittles. They chirp jubilantly as they dine on the latest delicacies, Saesneg arm, Moroccan leg and many more exotic cuisine that I bestow upon them. Oft as a reward, I am permitted to caress their fluffy heads. It is days like these where I know that God exists and loves all who dwell within his world.

There is no greater joy in life, from this end of the realm to the next, than feeding your surrogate children and envisioning the mirth that lays clear on their countenance.

When I was a child, I came home one day to find that something had chewed through my ENTIRE collection of Welsh encyclopedias. I was so furious I couldn't sleep, and it's a good a thing I didn't because it allowed me to catch the little bastard in the act - a RAT. Damnable vermin came scurrying from behind the curtains and began nibbling on the jumper cables my dad got for my birthday. I screamed and I stomped, and I threw my tennis racket at it, but it fled behind the bookshelf to safety. When my parents came to see what the ruckus was about, they wouldn't BELIEVE ME when I told them about the rat, thinking I was just a nuisance who didn't take care of his toys. My dad rattled my skull with a coconut until I stopped making noise, because he had to work in the morning, and the next day after school I started tearing my room apart looking for the rotten creature. It was NOWHERE to be found, but signs of it were everywhere - there wasn't a cable or book that hadn't been chewed upon with disgusting little gremlin teeth, and its droppings were strewn all behind the bookshelf and the curtains and IN MY BEDSHEETS. I was FURIOUS. Mum comes in and sees what I've done, all reason apparently deserting her. She won't listen to me, accuses ME of nibbling on everything like a rodent and collecting nuggets of ♥♥♥♥ in my fingernails and scattering them around the room. EVEN TO THIS DAY she keeps reminding me about it. She keeps telling me I'm the reason she started smoking again. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥, I CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE ARE SO ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ STPUID./

Over the next few weeks I continue doing battle with this rat. One time I even managed to smack it across the room with my tennis racket, but it broke the mirror and dad made me walk barefoot across the shards as punishment. Two nights later, the ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ rat comes back with a FRIEND of his and they munch on my toes during the night. Now, dad had never even thought of breaking my ribs, so there was no way I could have bitten my toes myself. Thinking I now had some definitive proof, I show my parents and they just say it's what happens to all naughty boys - some pygmy Korean elf comes and gnaws on your toes as you sleep. Bear in mind I was ELEVEN at this point and had long grown out of all that NONSENSE. The weeks draw on like this until one day I manage to crush one of the rats with this weird pink baton thing my sister kept in her room (still don't know what that's about????) and the other rat runs away. I'm not sure if I killed the first rat or its friend and I didn't care because I'd KILLED one of the little ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ and it seemed to scare the other one off for good. For good measure, I took a bit of string and hung the corpse by the neck from my desk lamp, just to warn off any other RAT SCUM reckoning to come on my turf. For the first time in forever I felt ALIVE. I barely noticed that my parents and sister hardly talked to me anymore.

There are quite a few incidents with rats that occur throughout my life from that point. I remember I got suspended from high school once, I was about 15, because I saw a rat climbing up a drain pipe and climbed the building after it just so I could kill the thing. I used brooms and sticks and things most of the time, but often it was just easier to get your hands around them and SQUEEZE. Ooh, I liked when I squeezed them. You know, not many people spoke to me in high school, not even the girls, which I thought was strange because I'd overheard them before talking about how GROSS rats were. I thought we'd get along, but it seems they were just ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ HYPOCRITES.

After school I started an apprenticeship as an exterminator. I didn't really have anything else to do at the time, so I learned fast and always worked diligently, much to the approval of the higher ups. They said I had a rarely seen passion that would take me far in the job, but little did I know that was just another lie. It been a few months and we were out on a rat job in the suburbs. The little freaks were EVERYWHERE in this dusty old shed the old woman had in her backyard. Now, we had this whole procedure with poisons and chemical sprays and whatnot, but I had always though it wasn't enough. Like, it was too clinical, you know? Not hands on. You have to let the rats know how much you HATE them or they're just going to come back eventually. So I charged in there and started stomping and smashing and screaming, painting the walls of that scumhive with their squeaking little children. ♥♥♥♥ THEIR CHILDREN especially. I hope rat females are smart enough to feel the kind of pain that only a mother can feel watching her children get slaughtered. Eventually, they start working together to climb up my legs and bite my tender parts, so I retreat to our van and get some sort of flammable spray. Then, combining that with my lighter, I go back in and just start torching the place. Oh you should have heard the screaming.

We got in quite a lot of trouble for that. Apparently that shed was full of lead and asbestos and I spread that ♥♥♥♥ around the whole neighbourhood when I lit the place up. I was fired, of course. So much for passion, HUH GUYS? And not long after all this, the ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ traitors in my apartment block get me evicted because they think I deliberately encouraged a rat infestation by littering my apartment and the lobby with cheese crumbs and maggot-ridden garbage, just so I could go around killing them and smearing their innards on the doors of all the women I knew were in the building. TOTAL BULL. Yes, there was a rat infestation, and YES, I did charitably step in and apply my expertise as a former exterminator to help destroy them with the bricks I tied to my hands and boots. But I had NOTHING to do with bringing them there in the first place, and I have NO IDEA how those rat guts ended up on all those doors. There MAY have been some accidental crumb spilling, as I do like a good Lancashire, but it WASN'T MY FAULT!!

I'm at a new place now, but I haven't seen any rats yet, so you can imagine my relief when I came across this game. FINALLY, someone makes a way to let me cleave and smash and burn rats with total impunity! It's genius! I can't believe I didn't hear of it sooner. YOU CAN CUT THE ♥♥♥♥♥ IN HALF WITH A HALBERD. Trust me, if you DESPISE rats as much as I do, get this game!! It's pretty much all I do these days, but my roommate's getting me a job at Maccas so we'll see how much free time I have...