How many friends do you have?

Oh, tons of �em�there are almost as many of them as my enemies.
A lot of people seem to think I�m interesting, but I�ve only got one or two real friends.
Two or three. And they�d probably help me hide a body.
I have a fair number. People just seem to like me.
A few. About normal, I guess.
Friends? I have no friends. I have minions, rivals, and occasionally superiors. Friends are an unnecessary complication, and they usually sell me out to authority.
Six!

How do you like to spend your free time?

I usually spend it roaming restlessly from activity to activity, trying to find something that interests me.
Sometimes I stare at the grass growing up through the sidewalk and think deep, deep thoughts. I also like to spend large amounts of time in the presence of others and not speaking.
I have a hobby. Something painfully meticulous, probably involving glue.
Friends. Sports. Something that lets me move, either physically or intellectually.
Movies, sports, computer games, music. Whatever passes the time.
Sitting in a darkened room, hacking into a government database and stealing plans for an anitmatter bomb. Or maybe just sending every third email account a virulent computer virus.
I make salt!

If you wanted to destroy the world, how would you do it?

Nuclear holocaust. (grins) Oooh yeeeaah . . .
Melt the glaciers. Flood the world. Dolphins inherit the earth. Cool.
I would set massive thermonuclear bombs along all the fault lines of the world and then trigger them all at once, unleashing devastating earthquakes that would batter civilization into dust.
I�d market a new, bigger, better SUV, with four times the leg room and eight times the fuel consumption. And then I�d wait for the greenhouse effect to fry us all.
(looks around) Seems to be doing all right by itself. I�m going home and watching Buffy.
Well, first I would use my control of the world media to promote lawlessness, loose morals, and birth control . . .
Burn! Burn so bright!

An adorable animal of indeterminate nature approaches you trustingly. What do you do?

Play with it for awhile, then get distracted.
Drop it a tidbit of something edible, and then watch intently. Repeat until bored.
Take it inside, feed it, pet it, buy fifteen different types of pet food until you know its preferences, and come up with embarrassing nicknames for it.
Play with it for awhile, then try to trick one of your friends into feeding it.
Feed it some leftover KFC that sat on the kitchen counter overnight. What? I wasn�t going to eat it.
Take it inside. Pythons need to eat, too.
Um . . . burn it?

Say you keep the adorable animal of indeterminate nature. A month later it transforms into a rampaging hellbeast and tries to devour your ears. What do you do?

Beat it to death with a table leg.
Escape onto the roof, and then make detail notes on what it attacks and what it leaves alone.
Capture it with an overly-complicated trap, then wait for it to change back. Build a cage of spring steel for Fluffy�s �time of the month�.
Beat it to death with a table leg. Then I�d mount its head on the wall.
Barricade myself in the bathroom until it changes back.
Laugh delightedly, and redirect its wrath to the people next door.
Drive it off with flares.

Oh no! Your adorable animal of indeterminate nature has bitten you, and infected you with lycanthropy! What do you do?

Through immense force of will, I would gain control of my transformations, and become a vigilante on the stylishly gritty streets of some famous city.
Hm. I wonder . . . did the disease put the beast in me, or has it always been there, waiting to escape? Perhaps this IS my true nature�oh, and I�d try not to eat people.
Through immense force of will, I would contain the beast within me, never allowing the nightmare to occur again. Of course, the mental strain would make me die of an aneurysm by the time I was thirty, but hey�shit happens.
Through immense force of�hell, you know the rest. I�d just use it to impress dates, though.
I�d stumble around in a daze for a bit. Disbelieve the evidence of my transformations. Eat a few people. You know, the usual.
I would transform at EVERY FREAKIN� OPPORTUNITY. Do you have any idea how much eating people would save me on groceries?
Doesn�t matter, I�ll be immolating shortly.

And finally, do you like waffles?

They take too long to make. Just gimmie the batter.
Aerated pancakes. I approve.
Pancakes with an attitude problem. The idea . . . disturbs me.
prefer an alternate substrate for my syrup consumption needs.
Yes.
They�re pancakes gone wrong. So yes, I like them. And the little holes hold your condiment of choice sooooo nicely. (chuckles maliciously)
(scoffs) Carbon.