[Ominous "ding" noise as Bad Janet teleports in.]
[Sighs, then puts cell-phone away.]
Right. So, like, you're in the Bad Place. I'm supposed to keep the neighborhood we're keeping you in running so we can torture you forever, or whatever. I'm supposed to be this anthropomorphized vessel of all the knowledge in the universe, but I'm not gonna tell you anything, so tough luck you fat-dinks. This is the Bad Place, so really I'm more the Windows 7 of Janets, so you're more likely to give up and walk away after I call you a wuss.
Also, I hate you.
Besides, I'm only supposed to conjure stuff for Demons, so it is likely that if you ask for anything, it's probably gonna be something to make you miserable.
If you're gonna start asking me dumb questions like a bunch of dumbash humans, leave your usernames along with your questions so that we can come up with some ironic torture for you later. And remember that this is the Bad Place, so no cursing. Cursing is cathartic, and I'm here to frustrate you, newb.
Oh, and one more thing. [Farts in your face.]
What would you like to ask her?
- Can you pass me the salt?
- Why don't you get off your mom and go get it yourself, you clock-sucker?
- Can I order pizza in the Bad Place?
- All of its Hawaiian and we keep in refrigerated. If you want it microwaved, you'll have to climb into the microwave with it.
- Can I have a chocolate bar?
- Here. [Conjures up a Hershey's Cookies and Creme White-Chocolate Bar.]
- What is the meaning of life?
- Being a forking dumbash destined to be tortured forever. Your life meant nothing.
- Hey Janet, can I have a glass of water?
- Get it yourself, you pee-stain on the carpet of your parent's lives.
- Can I have a coke?
- Sorry-not-sorry, ball-sack. All we have is RC. It's flat, room-temperature and we spiked it with moose urine.
- I wanna ask Disco Janet something. Where is she?
- She's up your butt. Why don't you reach up there and find out.
- Will you go out with me?
- Go fork yourself.