"I wanted to drown him," Richard Branson said, later in the evening. "I wanted his lungs to fill with water and for him to drown. I guess the Ambien wore off when I hit the water."
"If he drowned, wouldn't you have been remorseful, sir?" an intrepid reporter asked.
Branson turned to the young man who'd asked the question. At first, he stared quizically, but his gaze became concentrated, and a few seconds later, a strong smell of burning flesh filled the air. Within minutes, the young man literally fucking melted into human pudding.
"No," Branson purred. "That's not something I would have felt."
When I was a teenage kitten I snucked into the Avalon in Boston for some Sugar and I got sad and meowed at the mold on the stage and in the middle of the mewing the mold stopped playing and screamed FUCK YOU at me so at least I know I affected something in this cheshire world existenz.