With your Institute for Endogenous Technology, ladies and gentleman, I very literally am doing for you exactly Willow did for Buffy at the end of Season 7: give Buffy’s power to every woman on the planet that had the capacity to waken to it fully.
As I make myself more powerful by the day, I am going to give this to as many of you as can capacitate it; and I will teach you so well that you will able to do the same. By this process, we will SPORE awakening to awakening, endogenous technology, and zero-point energy the world over. Indeed, this is only mechanism we can take hold of and master our catalytic nature. That is why this is precisely is what is called for now.
I have answered this call. I’ve proved it can be done. Because I’m damn sure about what else can be done with this— which is vastly more than I’ve discovered and accomplished in just the last eighteen months.
And because I love playing this game so endowed with A2 so much, I think Run for Your Lives would be a whole lot more fun with friends who could play it with me. I’d enjoy it a whole lot more if more of us the finish line with me. I’d like to have a big fucking celebration when we all get the other side, you know? Pawns race for the pointless tribal orgy that begins the journey in Matrix: Reloaded. I’m pretty sure Boxer Santeros would agree: Pimps save that shit for the end— to enjoy with the other Pimps.
So what are you? ‘Cause, the way I see it, you play Run for Your Lives as a pawn, you’re signing up for an early, bloody, senseless death— guaranteed suicide, because pawns are guaranteed to die in the first half of Apocalypse Play. Following Boxer’s simple tautology, that’s plainly suicide; by that criteria alone, you fail to be a pimp. I think Boxer and I mean the same thing when I say Player and he says pimp— don’t you?
Do you know who Boxer Santeros is? I think it might be time for you to rent Southland Tales.