It would be preferable for you to simply cease existing. Failing that, you would make lovely piñatas at the Valentine's Day dance. I hope no-one wears white on the dancefloor. It'd be such a pity. Although... the beautiful, blossoming droplets... well, with each blessing comes critics and nitpickers.
Now it's raining. Soon the sun will forsake you. Now is the time to go to Hell. Life isn't worth living, not living for you.
Not so hard, is it? All you have to do is go to sleep. Don't wake up. I'll make sure you don't. Precious children, all of you. Now is the time for you to reap your rewards.
All so pretty. Twirling, dancing images of perfection, arms eternally poised with rigor mortis, the silent screaming ballerinas. Bask in your dysfunction.
It's over, my pretties, all over and done. Did you like it? Oh, you missed it. Hold on, I'll play it for you again.
Oh, I forgot. You're almost late for your date. Satan is a busy man. Don't keep him waiting.