You can’t handle the hentai! Son, we live in a world that has art, and that art has to be drawn by men with pens. Who’s gonna do it? You? You, a chronic masturbator? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Nintendo and you curse the Rule 34 artists. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know, that Nintendo’s characters being sexualised, while tragic, probably caused great art. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, births art! You don’t want the hentai, because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me holding that pen. You need me to hold that pen. We use words like “honor”, “code”, “loyalty”. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent creating something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very hentai that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it! I would rather you just said “thank you”, and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a pen, and draw on your own. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to!