"My, my how I do love getting in a fresh batch of new meat! Virgin skin to wound and scar. Still signs of life in your beady little eyes. Hopes I can crush! Yes! Yes!"
"You know what I am, boys? I'm the biggest secret in the Roman Army. I'm sick, and pathetic. A loser. They even branded me with the name Shitheadus. But guess who it is I get to shit on?! You new men may think you know terror but I'm going to show you terror like you've never seen before, terror you've never even dare think!"
"No willing woman will have me and somebody's got to pay. And the times when my dick as is hard as that oar you grab will be the times I beat you most. Right or wrong I'll lash you into unbearable agony - as completely helpless as I am to escape it! You will moan, you will cry out, you will beg - but no relief ever! You shall share my pain in full!"
"Isn't the army wonderful to provide a place in this world for a man such as I? We shitheads are the newest bestest disease of the world. Roman merchants are forming what's called "corporations" where shitheads like I can organize you slaves as we see fit. It will be just like it is here: your reward for good work will only be more work the next day. The world will live my nightmare!"
Your parents expect you to work hard and not complain!
"Work is your god now. All hail mighty work! A man must be useful to serve our great Roman Republic. When I look out over your bent bare backs I see nothing but prostitutes for my penis. That is your work. HAHAHA! I love it. We have re-purposed your lives to suit our ends. When I sleep in my comfortable berth above you can't imagine the glorious rush of power I feel as the motion of the ship under me sways by your futile efforts. Quite vampyric!"
"Your life expectancy here is longer than that of a housefly - but not by much. Men need hope to live but you have none! You will live for my dick just like the women I can't have. I hear some of you speak of a god. No god will come from the sky to save you. If ever a god did love you that's over now. You belong to me and whatever wives or women, family or lives you had before the gods have taken away!"
"I see some of you are weeping already. My message is getting through! Your tears are my joy. Your woe is my glee. You are the living dead just as I am the walking dead. Have you heard of our newest prisons? They are underground. You are buried alive in total darkness! Truly now, you must admit it: it is we shitheads who rule the world."
OK, we know who really rules the world
"You there boy, all fresh and tender. Let me spread my seed on you! Look at him uselessly fight to get out of his chains. You're getting me hard, boy! What would your pretty girlfriend think now if she could see me exploding on your head? Yes, take it bitch. You'll never be the man again she thought you were. Oh, that's funny! I've haven't heard crying like that in ages. We must find a way to get this news to her! He thought himself exempt!"
"The future is looking bright for us shitheads! I saw a soothsayer the other day and she spoke of times when millions would be gathered for camps of death, countless waves of purges of men, women and children to serve the myths of men. The vampire shall rise and be hailed in both song and story. We will be harbored in darkness to do the bidding of the great masters. It is the shitheads who shall round you up in the middle of the night in unstoppable terror!"
"But her stories grew the wooden anguish down below I know so well. Cowering at her feet I begged the woman god for mercy. She said for 50 shekels I could buy her shoe to lick. Like a wild dog with its prey, I grabbed the shoe in my mouth and ran to hell's corner to devour it. Now it is my most prized possession. I ask you now my tortures tots: who among you also wishes to lick that shoe!"
Every man in the house shouted and clamored for the chance.