I am sorry for disturbing you. I am sorry for riding around with my bike stereo blasting Slayer with my own distorted, warped voice repeating my friend's name. I am sorry I was dressed in all black like some sort of hipster-Nazgul. You see, a couple weeks ago I was on acid and my friend messaged me a picture of a penis covered in tiny worms. It was not fun to see. When I heard he and some friends were tripping at the park, I knew my chance for revenge was at hand. Imagine his confusion as death metal and his own name grew louder and louder through the trees, and his terror when he finally spotted a rider in black, staring at him from across the pond. It was possibly my greatest achievement, but still I'm sorry for ruining the mood for everyone else. Next time I'll play Beach House.
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