Is not the arbiter the eloquence of choice? Is not the arbiter a fastidious fabricating felon? Or is he the exuberant exception? Does he not facilitate for humanity's weakness? Does he not inveterate invocations? Is it the arbiter, or the man that retributes his own fate?
Is man not a primordial prism of perpetual pity? Is man not a hybrid hypogeum of harmonious heresy? Or is he the jovial immiscible ignorance? Does man not excel at circumstances brought forth? Does man not substantiate for his competence? or lack of? Is man not an immaculate skiagropher of arbitration?
Kool-Aid man has a limitless supply of kool-aid, all he has to do is spill his shit on the floor and get some hits in while the bald geezer wipes it up. It's productional instinct and marketed conditioning, he doesn't know much else.