I’m just going to go right ahead and say it: the Minions are the procreation of the spawn of Satan. Just thinking about their unexplainable anatomically-confusing bodies sends me into a fit of angst. I don’t know whose moronic stunt this was to create these little fuckers, they’re nothing but pure evil. I bet you any money if Trump is elected in 2016, they’ll be contracted out to build his wall. After attempting to boycott those irritating mustard-coloured fuckers ever since they poisoned the lives of children and yes, adults, I am infinitely sick of seeing them on the shelves of Walmart, the desks of professors and around every goddamn turn. They have contaminated the world of children’s movies then advanced their domination onto toys, lunchboxes and whatever the fuck else they were able to put their creepy hands on. The culture that has formed around these characters has infiltrated every aspect of social life—there is no safe zone.
If I hear someone so much as utter about crescent shaped fruit in that annoying, teeth-clenching mimic one more goddamn time, I will proceed to find the nearest sharp object and progressively eliminate the Dreamworks animators who formulated these pests. Don’t even get me started on the sounds that exude/emanate from their pieholes: are they irritating chuckles or a conglomerate of incessant noise compiled from depths of hell. You cannot browse Tumblr without coming across their irritable grins. Minion-themed phone case? How about I just drink cyanide instead.
If you’re still on the hunt for your New Year’s resolution, I suggest setting a goal to completely assassinate Minions from life as we know it. Please, I think we’re all begging humankind for salvation.