Alas, poor Yorick, I nuked him well.

A fellow of infinite lust, of most dangerous passion. He had shaken his fist at us a thousand times, and now obliterated by our moral authority he is. Here stood his palace, inside of which he held luxuriant sex romps. Where are your sexy ladies now, your fancy cars, your designer clothes, that were wont to make us boil over with resentment? You haven’t gotten yourself off, have you? Blown your load?

To bomb, or not to bomb, that was the question: whether it was nobler to turn a blind eye to your nation of outrageous excess – or bomb you.

***
Title by: David Gianotti
Story by: Nick

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