D
Deleted member 21898
I'm sorry
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What I would give to kidnap Peter Dinklage and make his life a living hell. I would force him to dress up in elf and leprechaun outfits and subject him to pure awfulness and humiliation. Just terrible degradation and shameful acts. It would be so easy to break his spirit and drive him to suicide, but I wouldn't let him do it. If I could train a dog to rape on command then I would totally do that as well. A really big dog like a mastiff. He would be so completely and utterly powerless to stop it, not to mention terrified. A big ass dog is even scary and life-threatening to a normal human but to a midget? Might as well be a dragon. I'd keep him in a cell and what's more is that I would actually place the key inside with him but put it in a high place. Not extremely high but just ever so slightly out of reach. It would drive him mad. I would dress him like a baby and force feed him 99 cent store baby food. I'd also pick him up like a child and toss him from one corner to the next. I'd grab him by one leg and swing him as hard and as fast as I could then hurl him to see how far he goes. I'd rent one of those giant inflatable bounce houses and body slam him all day until my arms got tired. I'd hold him down with 1 hand and slowly stick things up his butt just to see him squirm. I would stick him in dryers and turn them on and leave him in there for long periods of time. I'd force him to fight other midgets to the death. Just so many things i would do.
The funniest thing to do to Warwick Davis and his family would be to kidnap him, and construct an elaborate midget village in a warehouse where he and his family could live in an appropriately sized home custom built for their various deformities, in a peaceful place with all sorts of midget sized attractions and places to visit, stuff like a midget supermarket with small food stuffs and a midget car lot with little midget cars and a midget bar with tiny beer and shot glasses and liquor bottles. Then once they’ve realized they can’t escape and have settled in, I would begin coming into the midget village at night dressed like a Kaiju monster and begin destroying their midget sized world, building by building, piece by piece. I would give them midget sized conventional appliances and whatnot to potentially Macguyver into possible defenses. I would of course crush any possible defense they could imagine with my normal sized feet. They would be powerless to stop me, and I could finally experience my lifelong dream of watching all hope leave a man, a man I break by continuous, world ending torment. As his tiny hands reached toward their artificial sun set against the ceiling of what is only one ordinary sized warehouse, but to them their entire midget world, he would beg for his midget god to save him. I would answer his wailing cry with the simple statement: But Warwick, I am your god now
Personally I'd starve Warwick Davis. It should not take too long given his size. Make him stick thin and so feeble. Then I would feign pity and serve him a plate of delicious char siu meat, with rich, sticky sauce, perfect pancakes, refreshing drinks... go all out. Give that little bastard a banquet. Watch him greedily devour the meat. His lips, teeth, and fingers sticky with the sauce as he throws manners and decorum out of the window in a mad rush to satiate himself. Then, when he's satisfied and feels thing are looking up, I shall reveal he has not been feasting on char siu pork but... char siu Harrison Davis. Yes, I will have ensured Warwick Davis greedily gobbled up the flesh of his mutant son that I butchered after growing bored with torturing him. As the tears well up in his eyes and he refuses to belief me, I shall let out a truly evil, bone chilling laugh and upend the contents of a box I'll have near me; it will be the mangled remains of his son. His legs gone, his skin flayed, castrated, eyes missing, his fingers and arms broken, and head twisted around. That is what I would do to that little bastard. The louder he screams and cries in anguish, the louder and more evil my cackle becomes. Hell, it may just kill me because I'll be struggling to breath as I'll be laughing so hard. I will then loop the footage of his son being raped by a dog, tortured, and then butchered by me 24/7 at maximum volume. This is the fate that awaits you, you vile little goblin... And then I will give Warwick Davis a rusty, yet sharp, blade and promise him that should he stick it up his anus I shall provide him with a quick death. He looks at me with pure hatred. The ordeal has clearly left him unhinged, yet he longs for death's sweet, tender embrace. I toss him the knife and he obliges. He screams. It is a queer mix of utter rage, hatred, sorrow, and pain. Music to my ears. Pools of blood begin forming at his feet as more and more blood spurts from his anus the further the knife goes in. When all the way in, he furiously demands what I promised: a quick death. I let out a truly evil laugh. A laugh so demonic it makes my previous sadistic cackles sound like a mother's tender humming to calm down a crying infant. I tell him he will die of the infection from the wounds of sodomising himself with a rusty blade, and that it will be agony. He screams at me that. Screams that I PROMISED a quick death. I again let out a devilish cackle and tell him the death will be quick... relative to the one I gave his son. He screams and bawls his vile piggy eyes out. His rants are barely coherent. With that, I turn, walk out of the dungeon, lock the door, and destroy the key. I smile to myself. I am content... for now. The thirst for dwarf misery will soon take hold of me again
The funniest thing to do to Warwick Davis and his family would be to kidnap him, and construct an elaborate midget village in a warehouse where he and his family could live in an appropriately sized home custom built for their various deformities, in a peaceful place with all sorts of midget sized attractions and places to visit, stuff like a midget supermarket with small food stuffs and a midget car lot with little midget cars and a midget bar with tiny beer and shot glasses and liquor bottles. Then once they’ve realized they can’t escape and have settled in, I would begin coming into the midget village at night dressed like a Kaiju monster and begin destroying their midget sized world, building by building, piece by piece. I would give them midget sized conventional appliances and whatnot to potentially Macguyver into possible defenses. I would of course crush any possible defense they could imagine with my normal sized feet. They would be powerless to stop me, and I could finally experience my lifelong dream of watching all hope leave a man, a man I break by continuous, world ending torment. As his tiny hands reached toward their artificial sun set against the ceiling of what is only one ordinary sized warehouse, but to them their entire midget world, he would beg for his midget god to save him. I would answer his wailing cry with the simple statement: But Warwick, I am your god now
Personally I'd starve Warwick Davis. It should not take too long given his size. Make him stick thin and so feeble. Then I would feign pity and serve him a plate of delicious char siu meat, with rich, sticky sauce, perfect pancakes, refreshing drinks... go all out. Give that little bastard a banquet. Watch him greedily devour the meat. His lips, teeth, and fingers sticky with the sauce as he throws manners and decorum out of the window in a mad rush to satiate himself. Then, when he's satisfied and feels thing are looking up, I shall reveal he has not been feasting on char siu pork but... char siu Harrison Davis. Yes, I will have ensured Warwick Davis greedily gobbled up the flesh of his mutant son that I butchered after growing bored with torturing him. As the tears well up in his eyes and he refuses to belief me, I shall let out a truly evil, bone chilling laugh and upend the contents of a box I'll have near me; it will be the mangled remains of his son. His legs gone, his skin flayed, castrated, eyes missing, his fingers and arms broken, and head twisted around. That is what I would do to that little bastard. The louder he screams and cries in anguish, the louder and more evil my cackle becomes. Hell, it may just kill me because I'll be struggling to breath as I'll be laughing so hard. I will then loop the footage of his son being raped by a dog, tortured, and then butchered by me 24/7 at maximum volume. This is the fate that awaits you, you vile little goblin... And then I will give Warwick Davis a rusty, yet sharp, blade and promise him that should he stick it up his anus I shall provide him with a quick death. He looks at me with pure hatred. The ordeal has clearly left him unhinged, yet he longs for death's sweet, tender embrace. I toss him the knife and he obliges. He screams. It is a queer mix of utter rage, hatred, sorrow, and pain. Music to my ears. Pools of blood begin forming at his feet as more and more blood spurts from his anus the further the knife goes in. When all the way in, he furiously demands what I promised: a quick death. I let out a truly evil laugh. A laugh so demonic it makes my previous sadistic cackles sound like a mother's tender humming to calm down a crying infant. I tell him he will die of the infection from the wounds of sodomising himself with a rusty blade, and that it will be agony. He screams at me that. Screams that I PROMISED a quick death. I again let out a devilish cackle and tell him the death will be quick... relative to the one I gave his son. He screams and bawls his vile piggy eyes out. His rants are barely coherent. With that, I turn, walk out of the dungeon, lock the door, and destroy the key. I smile to myself. I am content... for now. The thirst for dwarf misery will soon take hold of me again
