My name is Blister, they call me the "Cynic" - my compatriots just call me "Crabbe." If you wonder where I came from, I walked off the face of your computer when you sent your last BCC message. Blister the Cynical Crabbe -get it? BCC.
I got a few bones to pick about society and the way they do things. If you look around here... - HEY! Down here, dummy! I'm the talking crabbe -pay attention, huh? ...if you look around me, you can see I have a lot of garbage to deal with -which is perfect! That's what I do. I deal with the garbage!
Somebody called me a "Fiddler Crab," and I'm here to set the record straight. I ain't no "fiddler," and I ain't no "crab," neither - I'm a CYNIC! Kinda garbage I deal with is the kind that nobody wants to handle -so they just let it pile up. Well, it's been years now, and the pile ain't got no smaller. So, that's why I'm here -to take out the trash!
You see me with my arm raised up -it's raised in protest, plain and simple. I don't fiddle with it!
When you hear me coming, you can bet there's a piece of old business that is just rotting on the vine and ready to be picked -and they ain't nobody better at pickin' a scab on society than a Cynical Crabbe -that's me!
