Eh, what? Hello. I am badger. And I am hunger. I prowl. I eat anything that crosses my path. Oh, hey, Mr. Scorpion. What's up, you, lunch, you? Oh, mister man, you are so cute for a lunch to put up such a fight. Your stings; I don't mind them. It is like a kiss. I like to be kissed for death. I kiss you back in my mouth and down my throat and into my stomach acid.
I am badger. I have ate you, scorpion. Now, I am the poison.
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Badgie-badgie? You call me Badgie Baddie like I am cute, but I am not cute. I am the fierceness. I am the wind. I will defy your stings and steal your honey. I am rage.
It courses through my veins. The world kaleidoscopes and the air falls to pieces. I have no need for your air. I walk on the pieces, yet they don't cut me. They cut the ground. The ground is cut and bleeding. It is your oceans. Your waves are blood. Fall over me waves, I revel in your gore.
I surf gore, spying on seagulls flying across the airless sky. I leer at your sharks rendered impotent. I am your master now, shark. I see your teeth and raise you claws. I raise my paw. I want it all.
We mirror maws and delirium. I come up winner, winner, chicken dinner after you swim away, not sure if it's my blood or your blood we are swimming in.
I get a gold medal in viciousness. I stand on podium and hear the national anthem of my people. Do you know what the badger anthem is? There isn't one. I'm a gold star badger.
Shooting through the sky I erupt through the ozone in a stream of consciousness. I am gravity falling Newton's apple. I am wish. I whoosh.
I wash ashore from the sea of blood. I waggle my badgie tail in anticipation. I waggle residue and intake. I take in the land. I take in the trees. Strange fruit on these trees. On these trees I find...
MILK Makeup Lip + Cheek in Perk
Super shimmery like an aughts girl. I am so shimmer, I am pearlescent. I am a mouth of peace. I am a mouth of teeth. Terrifying teeth, but as love. And grace. Gnashing. Always gnash.
Also...
Covergirl LashBlast Volume Mascara in Very Black.
Don't fuck with any mascara unless it's the blackest black. Blackest like my tail. Blackest like my heart. This makes my lashes like spiders. I like spiders. I can eat the spiders as they crawl from my eyes and down my snout. Chomp. Chomp. Gulp. You are in my throat. You feed my power as I grow to obscene lengths. I am the spider I eat. We are all spider.
I am so tired... So tired... the world stilts and stills, and eyes are heavy. No air to breathe and body goes slow, slack. I release. I relax. I sleep.
I AWAKE! RAAAAAAHHHHHHGGGGGEEEEEEE!
Holy shit, dude... Those scorpions are quite the tasty trip. Will I ever be the same? What is beauty to a badger anyway? From now on I stick to snakes and honey. Yikes.
Addendumb: Badgers don't get paid for their endorsements. They are badgers. Money is meaningless.
