FUCK that RAT BASTARD.

Imagine you’re a little kid. Maybe playing Nintendo, or some Hot Wheels, maybe some Uno, whatever. And your room is getting hot. Too hot. You go outside to see what the deal is, and it turns out there’s a massive *fucking* fire in the kitchen. It’s getting bigger and bigger, the smoke is getting in your eyes and throat. Every breath burns. You throw yourself out the window, half blind, as the fire rages on, consuming your house in a white-hot inferno. As you cough the smoke out of your lungs, you hear your parents, your loving mother and father, screaming in agony. The fire swallows them whole as their hellish screams echo through the night.

“Oh god… oh god, it’s burning! It’s burning! Help!”

“Fuck! Fuck! It hurts, oh sweet Christ it hurts!”

“I can’t feel my legs!”

“OH GOD I CAN’T BREATHE!”

“MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

…suddenly, silence.

Firefighters and police arrive to recover whatever the fire hasn’t destroyed. You catch a glimpse of your parents. They’re almost unrecognizable; their hair has been burned out, their eyes have melted and fallen out of their heads, their skin is charred and black as the night, and their expressions are horrific. You’re too shocked to even cry. No more Nintendo games, no more Hot Wheels or Uno Cards, no more Rubik’s Cubes or Pillow Pets, nothing. **Everything** is gone. You sob as men in suits escort you to a vehicle, and fall asleep during the drive.

Now you’re at the orphanage. Everything is unfamiliar. Nobody wants to be friends with you. There’s no games or toys. Every night, you pray, hoping that you will see mom and dad just *one more time.* You hope that they’ll hold you again, that they’ll tell you a story or sing you a song, or help with your homework, or play Nintendo with you, or tuck you in at night; but they never come. Over the years, you come to crave the love of a parent, of a family, always pleading with God or wishing upon the stars at night that you will be able to feel loved once more.

And then the Littles show up and pick a **fucking crackhead rat** over you.

**Fuck Stuart Little, I FUCKING HATE HIM! I HOPE TO WATCH EVERY AGONIZING SECOND OF HIS FINAL MOMENTS BEING DEVOURED ALIVE BY A PACK OF STARVING DOGS! I HOPE I HEAR HIM SCREAM AND BEG FOR MERCY AS I FUCKING TEAR HIM APART LIMB BY LIMB AND MAKE HIM EAT HIS OWN FUCKING BODY. THAT LITTLE COCKSUCKER DESERVES DEATH. I’M GONNA RIP HIM IN HALF AND SQUEEZE THE SHIT OUT OF HIS INTESTINES INTO HIS FUCKING MOUTH. I’M GONNA THROW HIS FURRY ASS INTO THE WALL UNTIL HIS BRAINS EXPLODE. I’M GOING TO SQUEEZE THE GODDAMN PEST UNTIL HIS SHITS OUT HIS ORGANS AND I CAN HANG HIS PATHETIC HUSK OF A SKIN ON THE WALL. I HOPE HE DROWNS IN MY FUCKING VOMIT. GOD I WISH HE DIED IN THAT WASHING MACHINE!**

…no, that’s too good for him.

I just want Stuart Little to die suffocating in a jar filled with the most repulsive farts known to man. *I’m gonna tear his micro penis right off his body and shove it down his throat until he chokes on it.* **I’m going to mangle his body into a screaming pile of blood, tears, and shit. AND AFTER THAT, I’LL KILL THE LITTLES RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. I’LL CHOP THAT RAT BASTARD INTO LITTLE BITS USING THE SAME KNIFE THAT CHOPPED THE GODDAMN LYING HEADS RIGHT OFF THE LITTLE’S SHOULDERS!**

#FOR EVERY SECOND HE BREATHES, STUART LITTLE’S LIFE WILL BE PURE AGONY. AND WHEN I FINALLY LET THE FUCKER DIE, I’LL EAT HIS CORPSE AND SHIT OUT HIS BONES. THE WORLD COULD BE SO MUCH BETTER WITHOUT STUART LITTLE WASTING BREATH! I’LL MAKE HIM RUE THE DAY HE THOUGHT HE COULD CROSS MY PATH AND LIVE! HE IS A FUCKING CANCER THAT HAS BEEN TOLERATED FOR TOO LONG! STUART LITTLE IS WORSE THAN HITLER, HE DESERVES TO FEEL EVERY BIT OF PAIN HE INFLICTED ON OTHERS!! I HATE STUART LITTLE!!