As a native Dormont dweller, I have a natural hatred for those whom reside in the township sharing our southern border. I hate their overpriced shops, selfish school children who take rudely over the roads and sidewalks, and snobby official monster mascot, The Mt. Lebanonite, who refuses to acknowledge my existence.

Inside the borders of Dormont, I am a kind and gentle monster. However, once I cross into the epic failure that is Mt. Lebo, I have only one goal– to destroy. While Dormonters may awake missing a sock, Mt. Lebanoners may awake missing a sock, with the foot still inside.

Some drink champagne from the Stanley Cup, some take it to Marios on the South Side, but I eat the Dormont’s official cuisine out of it. Dormont Dogs, if you’re reading, you need to create a Stanley Cup dog. It should include:

A hot dog marinated in Iron City Beer and Mario Lemieux urine (he pisses excellence)

Heinz ketchup (of course)

Hair from Max Talbot’s beard

A reduction of Joe Louis Arena ice, Marion Hossa’s tears, water from the Mon and  unopened Detroit champagne.

Pickles

Chili

Kraft American Cheese singles

You can thank me later.

Soon, I will join Twitter in hopes of discovering fellow monsters living beneath beautiful suburbian boroughs.