Karma's going to get you. One day Karma's gonna get you. But you're a tough motherfucker, and it's not going to be easy for Karma.

Karma is going to come into your house while you are sleeping and start smashing pots and pans together. "WAaaaaaake up, sleepyhead. Waaaaaake up," he slowly yells in a creepy, horror-movie-villian-type hiss. Then, when you get up, yawning and confused, stumbling into the kitchen, Karma is there, naked and with a knife. Karma jumps at you, and you don't know what to worry about more: having a naked dude on you or the knife.

You grab a cheese grater from the counter and let Karma's own momentum take him into the ground as you jump out of the way. You stand over Karma with a cheese grater and that crazy look in your eyes.

Karma is fucking with the wrong guy.

You kneel over Karma, holding his shoulders down with your knees. You hold Karma's head down with your hand. And you start gratin'. The blood immediately starts flowing. You keep rubbing that cheese grater on Karma's face vigorously. He screams out in pain, begging for you to stop. You don't. You don't stop.

Karma is gonna catch up to you. He's waiting for you when you get out of work. He starts chasing after you, because he misjudged where you were gonna exit. But he spots you and he starts running to get you before you get in your car. You hear the sound of rapid footsteps and turn. There Karma is, running toward you, the sunset behind him and a gun in front of him. Karma is going to fucking get you.

You start sprinting to your car, desperately. You know you're no match for a gun. You get to your car just in time. Karma reaches to grab for you and you slam your door on his fingers. He screams out a bloodcurdling scream. You turn the keys and hit the motherfucking gas. Karma is dragged by his broken fingers for several hundred feet until you fishtail the car around a corner, making Karma's fingers slip out and sending him high into the air. He lands hard onto the cement. Tears are streaming down Karma's face and blood is flowing out of his fingers.

You screech the car to a halt. You get out of the car and grab Karma's gun, which skidded across the pavement like Karma when they both landed. The impact made the gun go off once, but nobody was hurt.

Until now. You grab the gun, tear open Karma's mouth, and stick the gun in it. Karma begs for his life in muffled grunts and pleas. You stick the gun in farther, gagging Karma. Karma can no longer talk. Karma's getting choked. You keep choking Karma with that gun. His face is turning blue, then green. Finally, you take the gun out. Karma takes a huge gasp and instantly begins coughing and throwing up puke and blood. You grab Karma and slam his face into his puke.

The next day is boring. You do some chores around the apartment. Last, you have to do laundry. You drag your heavy bag of laundry down to the laundry room. Leaning over, feeding your clothes into the washer, you suddenly feel a pain that can only be compared to a 2×4 to the back. You scream in pain and turn around. Karma's holding a 2×4.

Bad, bad karma.

You wrestle Karma for the 2×4. It gets knocked to the floor and you go for a different weapon instead: the detergent. You quickly splash him in the face. He grabs his eyes, screaming at the top of his lungs, clawing to get the poison out. Temporarily blinded, you grab him and open a top-loading dryer. You open and shut the door on his head repeatedly. You leave, not finishing your laundry.

And not finishing the job either. You go to sleep that night. You wake up to what feels like barbwire to the dick. You look down and realize there's barbwire on your dick.

"How's this for a condom, HUHHHHHH?" Karma viciously sneers. He wraps the barbwire around your penis, grabs the two ends and pulls, tightening the barbwire and cutting your genitals to shreds.

You're in so much pain you can't even form words. Karma walks to your kitchen. Karma grabs a blender. Karma comes back.

He plugs in the blender and puts it upside down on your head. And he turns that motherfucker to "HI". It drills into your head. He pushes it down, further and further. Blood, hair, and skin fly everywhere. Karma keeps drillin'. Eventually, the blade gets to your skull. Karma keeps goin'. The blade hits your brain. You are long dead by now. Karma continues.

Karma stops. Karma goes down and again twists the barbwire.

Karma is a bitch.