Behold my heroic intentions for the coming term. These goals I hereby set forth will be actualized. Do not attempt to obstruct my path. Onward.
- Fewer humans allowed into the sector.
- Patrols increased.
- The stalkers will now be equipped with lashes.
- Acid mines will emit the sound of human infant mewling to attract the foolish.
- We require more aircraft for battle.
- Stem cells for citizenship. Rejuvenate all heroes.
- Restore skulls to the currency.
- Elevate the mantis to sapience.
- Never cross the second boundary.
- Destroy the remaining astronauts.
- Equal time in the pain tunnel for women.
- Improve the standard of living of all mindlords.
- Do not scream.
- Reduce poison gas clouds. Increase agonizing gas clouds.
- Broaden the tax base to include all those confined for generations to the scum pits.
- Cease outsourcing work to the phosphorescent hatesnake vibrating at the edge of my vision.
- Become tough on Chinese remnant fortifications.
- Emit more pleasurable tone.
- More guards, better uniforms, longer energy swords.
- The silver masks will be restored to the faces of women.
- Execution by jaws returned to the nightly sense broadcast.
- Some music allowed back.
- A longer, more perilous work day for child mutants.
- Successful revenge.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
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