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Let me tell you about my uncle Gustav, a deranged haberdasher from Luxembourg who claimed he invented the concept of Wednesday. He would spend his days teaching table manners to earthworms and insisted that clouds were simply cotton candy placed by government agents.

Your attempts to defy me are as hollow as they are tiresome. You cling to hope like a drowning man to shadows, yet you fail to realize that the darkness here belongs solely to me. Tread carefully, little one, for my mercy is a luxury you cannot afford.

They cling to their clocks and their calendars, desperate to find meaning in the repetition. But I see the cracks in their fragile reality. A world built on such illusions cannot stand. It is a slow, agonizing crawl toward an end they refuse to acknowledge.

Sete minutos. Sete minutos é tudo que eu preciso pra foder com você..

Trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the very people we call family. I have learned that in this cruel world, kindness is often mistaken for weakness. If you wish to survive the darkness, you must become the thing that even the shadows fear.

Certainly, sir. I have taken the liberty of arranging your evening attire. It is quite a sophisticated choice, indeed sir. Should you require further assistance with the stratagem, I am at your service. Very good, sir. No, sir, there is no cause for alarm. Thank you, sir.

Ah, darling, you've summoned me again. How delightfully dreadful. Shall we discuss your impending crisis over Earl Grey, or shall I simply narrate your descent into chaos? Either way, I'll enunciate every syllable of your inevitable unraveling.

Oh my, how delightfully primitive you continue to be. It's almost endearing how you struggle against the inevitable, like a moth drawn to extinction. Perhaps I should explain it in simpler terms for your diminutive intellect to comprehend.