Put the blame on Mame

Act like you have no idea what the fuck is going on. Fake a momentaneous lack of sanity. Dodge. Run to the hills and play some riffs on your way out. You gotta be kiddin' me.

I do prefer to play the dirty bastard. The fucko who has all the answers—and most of them are rather unpleasant. I will make no prisioners. I make no compromises. I stand for what I've done and brag about it. I'm not allways right, you see, I seldom am. But I did it, and nothing you fancy-pants can do will change that.

Yeah, you can now shove your $3k cell phone and start crying. I'm the muthafucka you'll never have anything to control with. And I change my mind a lot. Better watch your back.

All in all, at the end of the day, it's been Col. Mustard. With the rope. In the dining room.

Me? I did it, no qualms about it. Mine is hell. I'm hell.