Yeah, I think it was officially when I had A SHAKESPEAREAN CHARACTER VOMIT ON A STILL-LIVING ABORTED BABY WITH A TINY SWORD that I might have earned a smaller room in hell.
It was the sword that did it. By giving the baby means to defend itself/vent its tiny, unborn wrath, you moved yourself from the 3rd arrondissment of Hell to the 7th. The outskirts where they are merely eating a lot and singing stupid drinking songs in languages spoken by geeks who study Aramaic on purpose.
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