tick...tock...tick...(tock)

my ire is piqued. that is, if ire is piqued at all. in the general sense, not mine specifically. but if so in the general sense then this may be applied to my specific ire. thus piquing it. or something. what, you ask (if you're the asking sort who asks things like what i'm about to suppose that you would ask if you were the asking sort, and if you are not the sort to be asking questions then i say away with ye! you non-question-askers pique my ire) is piquing my ire (other than you, if you aren't asking the aforementioned question)? the answer to this should be patently obvious to anyone loyal to the cause. are you loyal to the cause? in fact, who the hell are you? why are you here if not to enlist? i see you poke your little eyes into me and then scurry away, perhaps nonplussed. well i am plussed my friend, my compatriot, hypocrite lecteur, mon semblable! i am so plussed and piqued from this silence of the Enemy that my ire, once enacted at the peak of my pique will lay before me a devastating waste composed of the shattered words of ender's mind. indeed my ire is dire. thus spake the swivillain.