Make no mistake about it. Terrence Howard looks like a dapper, debonair gentleman who only farts into the finest of silk scarves and mostly speaks in a smooth cashmere tone of a Barry White after-cognac burp, but if you mess with his marriage, he will SERENA WILLIAMS out and kill you through the froat! Case in point: Radar says that some moron with dirty ass for brains got a hold of what she thought was Terry Howard’s cell phone number.
After getting some liquid courage in her veins, she tried to call Terry but her phone was dead. So she used her male friend’s cell phone, called the number and professed her undying love for Bishop Baby Wipes in a voicemail message. But it turns out that the number she thought belonged to Terry actually belonged to his wife. So what is a Terry Howard to do when a strange lady voice verbally blows his ego on his wife’s voicemail? Well, he threatens to a kill a trick, of course. Terry left this (click here to get it in your ears) love song on the dude’s voicemail:
“Nigga, you been calling my wife… If you call my wife again I’m going to come to your house and I’m going to cut your fucking throat. Understand that. I’m gonna tell you this one time. You call my wife again, I’m going to kill you.”
But after Terry went to his calm happy place by sniffing his wife’s baby wipes fresh asshole, he called back a few days later to apologize for the misunderstanding:
“I’m so sorry for calling you and speaking that way. I thought you were somebody that’s been harassing my wife. Please forgive me. My wife told me that she was receiving obscene text from you and that she was being harassed. Therefore I responded with the protective nature that a husband has for his wife. Forgive me for the anger, but as you are watching over your girlfriend, I too am devoted to my love.”
If you’re going to get your throat cut up, it might as well be by the hand of Terry Howard. Yes, you would die a slow painful, blood-curdling death and the last face you’d ever see would be the smug crazy face of the dude from Glitter, but at least your crime scene would be as sparkling clean as a newborn baby’s fresh out of the womb ass! Terry cannot strut away from a body covered with orifice goo of any kind. Terry would whip out his baby wipes attache (seen above) and clean your body the same way he expects all of his females to clean their caca holes. Your dead body would be so damn clean that even Terry would sit next to it at dinner.
Your family members would walk in on your murdered body and scream “AAAAAAAH!,” but then they’d take a whiff of the air and calmly say, “But damn it smells precious in here!” Thanks to Terry!