I can tell you don't want to do this. I see it in the way you're hanging back, tossing your head, whinnying loudly, foaming at the mouth, and opening your eyes so wide that the whites are visible all the way around.
That's why I brought the tranquilizer gun today, my friend.
We're doing this, whether you want to or not.
You see, even if I have to drag you, we're going to visit Kevin at Incestuous Amplification, and we're going to read an article about taking responsibility for yourselves as a nation, instead of passing the buck to the supposed victimizer. Seems to be a big theme these days, responsibility.
Still won't come? Then you won't mind if I take aim and do this...
Now that you're drugged and helpless, I'm grabbing The Marmot and plopping him on your ugly face. He's insisting he's not a heartless bastard, but then like a coked-up Jack Nicholson he flies into a rage and screams, "There'd better be a fuckin' good reason for this!"
I'm not sure the Marmot's stable, so I'm dying to see what he does to your face.
Fresh from eating Dubya's eyes and brain, The Vulture takes a quick flight over the terrain. Once he lands, I'm taking you to visit him, too.
_
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