Cut them off at the knees. Show them all what's like to be drained of their blood, laying cold in their very own chalkline.
A debt they owe that must be paid in blood in order to understand what is wrong. Bankrolled by the ones they put in bags. Snitches, killers and thieves. No good deed, no vision of safety, no will to serve, no will to protect.
Hatred swarm o'er me.
May they bleed you out until the white in your flag and the blue in your suit run the deepest shade of red, 'til no more blood is left.