Puppet bus

What. The. Fuck.

What the fuck is this? Why is there a puppet? What's that ticking noi- oh, he seems to be wondering the same thing. He's... singing? He's singing.

Why in the hell would anyone just s- did a second puppet just jump up and yell "Dumbledore"? Yes. I've gone insane. This cannot be rea- there's another! Another puppet!

What in the shit has happened to the fabric of reality? It's torn somehow. I don't kn- another puppet!!

Who the hell is running this show? It's... wait. It... no. NO! Nnnnnngaahhh! It's stuck in there now! Oh, fuck you, bus. GET OUT OF MY MIND!! Stop ru- HEY! Legs, what do you think you are doing? Stop bobbing up and down! YOU LITTLE TRAITORS!! I WILL KILL YOU!! YOU ARE DEAD TO ME, DO YOU HEAR?! ARGH! SONG, GODDAMN YOU, GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY... MY... my head... my... head...

Snape, Snape, Severus Snape. Snape, Snape...


Note: You have failed me, internet. All I needed was a little clip of Chekov screaming in Wrath of Khan. That's all I needed. But no. I couldn't have that link for my little blog. You are the big, strong internet. Fuck you in the goat ass, internet. I will not forget this insolence.

Lobster Shack bus

Son... of a bitch!

Let me get this straight:
You are closed on weekends.
You are closed Mondays.
You are closed Tuesdays.
You are closed Wednesdays.
Then you think, "How 'bout I close for the holidays... for a month?"

Okay, fine, acceptable. Wait, no, the other thing... totally fucking unacceptable!!

How in the fuck can you operate a business like that?! You can't just- How do you make any- Who the hell do you- *igick* AAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

You know what? How 'bout fuck you, bus? I'll start my own business. How 'bout that, you nasty wombat cocksucker?! We'll serve lasagna sandwiches, giant chicken pot pies, and bacon-doughnuts. And we'll be open all the time! 24/7, you sack of shit.

You want some of this? You want to take me on? You see this grin on my face? Say your goodbyes and bring it, you shitmoth.
24 motherfucking 7.

Mormon bus

Fuck. You. Bus.

Demon bus

The dark, lifeless eyes that burn into my soul - black eyes, like a doll's eyes. That smug grin, plastered on your impish visage. And those ears... you think they make you some kind of god? I can only assume that is some sort of reverse brain-parasite, disgorging its foul sustenance directly into your dark, evil mind. Shit, the audacity to pull something like that out in the open... egad!

Your skills at deception may make you seem all-knowing to others, but you don't fool me, devil. As if the leathery wings weren't proof enough, it's plain to see that your legs, if you can call them legs, are attached to your sausage body directly at the feet! And it's a known fact that demons have no knees!

There you are then, lain open, exposed. Hah! What have you got to say for yourself? Whatever it is, my response is "Fuck you, bus! You could at least let me pet you every once in a while!!"

UPDATE: The demon has a weakness. It is bacon. He is mine.

Morning Calisthenics bus

At first I thought it was sweet. "Oh nice, old folks out at the park in the morning, socializing and keeping in shape." Then I heard the de facto drill sergeants blowing their whistles and shouting at the ranks. Then I saw the weapons. Ribbons and sticks to be sure, but also swords. Fucking swords! Some old bag almost decapitated me one Monday when I wasn't as alert as I should have been. Jesus Christ bananas! It's still dark-thirty in the morning! I cannot deal with this horseshit!

As if that isn't bad enough, if you keep your distance from The Decapitator and divert your eyes toward the center of the swarm, you'll see the elite death squads. Those others may just be retirees, old folks with deadly weaponry who live otherwise normal lives. But these elite cocksuckers look like they're carved out of moon rock, and they will kill you. These gnarled sons of bitches are weapons. You'll see them out there, practicing to cut a man in half with the edge of their hand, and then when someone gets too close, KA-CHOONK. I saw one of these mother fuckers trying to push over a tree! A tree!! Screw global warming, these shrivelled assassins are attacking the earth directly!

I think what scares me the most is that I know one day I'll see their leader, and with a look he'll vaporize me in a beautiful display of blue light and smoke. I hate these fuckers. They scare the piss out of me. But they may just be our last line of defense when the zombie invasion comes. Fucking zombies. Fuck those monsters, and fuck you too, bus.

Drafty Restaurant bus

Listen, I know it's a temperate climate. I realize that 300 days of the year you need neither air conditioning nor heating to sit and eat comfortably in any of the eateries around. But on those other 70 days (fuck you, bus, I know how many goddamn days there are), you need to think about your customer and say, "I've got your back." Cool them off when it's hot and pump in some heat when it's cold. Do you hear me?

And here is the most important thing, and your life depends upon this, bus, so look at me and take heed. A fan? An open window or door? All fine when it's warm out. But if you touch that goddamn door or prop open that fucking window when it's cold outside, I will carve you open and tauntaun your ass. Do you understand? That ice cold breeze shooting up my spine is not refreshing. I came into your establishment to get out of the cold. I do not want to shiver uncontrollably at the table. Oh, so the cooks and waiters are warm from the kitchen and want to cool off? Guess what? You pay them. I pay you. Fuck them, and fuck you, bus. Close the fucking door. Isn't the customer always right? Be a man, bus! Coward! Bastard! Coward!

Bum Smoke bus

Stinkwhore dirty fuck! Stop standing outside the places I frequent! I know you found that cigarette you're smoking on the ground, and now you're filling the entryway with not only your own noxious disease air, but also that of whoever had that in their mouth before you. And the fucking street! And now I've unwittingly stepped outside and breathed in, thinking I might get some air. But no, now I have FUCKING BUBONIC PLAGUE! I can taste your mouth in this cloud. Jesus fuck... I can feel the buboes forming already. GAAAAH Fuck you, bus! Now I have to die. Fuck you, bus.

Tourist bus

Asshole shitbucket! I have to drive this way to get to work! Stop clogging up goddamn Lombard! It's a street! With curves! Holy shit!! Walk your ass over there and get out of the road! I will rip your head off and stick it up your wife's ass! And hers I'll cram up your ass! Get off the street, or there shall be a reckoning! Fuck you, bus.