O miserable apes, pathetic impudent MONKEYS!!
How dare you destroy my masterpiece, my Dimensia I.
O how brave Richard Branson must think himself after his raid upon my beloved fortress, striking the very point that I highlighted in my previous post. Before you get to highminded Branson, know this, it was I that pointed that out that little trick, not you and your perfect little hairdo!
Who could have possibly thought that he'd use a HOT AIR BALLON to reach my Dimensia I. Then the billionaire adventurer terrorist blew up my creation, and sent it crashing down into the ocean of...whatever that pathetic puddle of water is called.
I might have let it go Branson, you know, a professional tip-of-the-hat, arch-villain to arch-hero, but no...not after what you did. Not after you floated down to that Ibiza beach in that bright red and white ballon, to the throbbing throngs of lithe partygoers like some kind of mythic god. Not after they waved and welcomed you as a conquering hero. Not after you smiled that damn fool smile of yours and joined in their writhing dance, sipping champagne and winking for the cellphone cameras.
No, not now Branson.
Now.
It's war.
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