Jasmine: oh shit

Jasmine: 3 2 1 OHHH BABY YOU'RE A CLASSIC, LIKE A LITTLE BLACK DRESSS.

Jasmine: Thou hath put the most ill spell on mines self. I hath become delirious.

Never mind mines short burst of anger, let us write up a peace treaty.

Jasmine: THOU HATH TAKEN MINES WHORE JENNIFER? THOU HATH CROSSED THE LINE THAT THY MOTHER WORKED SO HARD TO CREATE WITH THINE HAIR.

NOR LONGER SHALT I PLAY THIS PETTY GAME WITH THOU. IF WAR IS WHAT THOU SEEK, THEN WAR IS WHAT THOU SHALL RECEIVE. I LOOK FORWARD TO NOON'S BATTLE AT NASUS ROAD, WHERE I SHALL LAUGH AT THE GILDED BUTTERFLIES THAT ESCAPE FROM THOU BELLY.

NEVER SHALL WE COME TO A TREATY!!!!!!!!!!!! UNLESS THOU BEGEST FOR MINES MERCY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I WILL FEED THY BODY AND THY MENS BODIES TO THE ALLIGATORS THAT INHIBIT MY MOAT. BUT I SHALL LEAVE THY DIRTY REAR END ON A SPEAR TO DISPLAY TO MINES COMMON FOLK.

Jasmine: Spit blood? On mines head? Thou ramble as if thou were still in thy chamber with thy mother. Look here poor child, I am not thy mother. I do not dispense "blood" for thou to swallow whole like a small garden snake.

And how dareth thou speaketh of mines father in such a manner. Thine lies can only get thou so far. Mines father died in the great heat of battle; his poor heart could not overcome thy mother's fiery liquid. As read from his journal "thy mother was a wild mare which needeth taming"

As I thinketh over these foul words thou send my way, I theorize that thou mighteth be mines bastard sister. Let us delay battle for one mid-summer night and speak about this predicament.

Jasmine: Oh but my jester, the mere house cat you speak of is no other but thy mother. Mines mother may not be a gem but she sureth made thy mother feel as if she were just that.

Now I beeseech you my jester, halt your abort and meet me on the battlefield. There you shalt feel a real sword enter you, not the petty toy you keep in thine hamper. Ah and thou thoughteth no soul knew...

Jasmine: Thou hath insulted me a thousand times, and thou still hath not given rest to thine vulgar tongue? I no longer beseech you my lady, or shalt I say my royal jester?

If war is what thou asketh for, then thou shalt receive. But beware petty jester, I shalt not let you or your men leave this world in a quick and painless death but instead in a lingering agony that thine mother could only describe as thou birth. Heh Heh Heh good day

cnaut: Thank you!

Jasmine: Why don't you say hi back to me?

cnaut: Hi Susan. Thanks for all your forum posts.