Ninth Rocket Jump

[unlessitsafarm]

JUST WHAT IN THE SAM HILL IS GOING ON NOW?

Someone make me a rib sandwich! I cannot rage on an empty stomach!

Let me tell you a story, Mayfield. A story about MY father! My father was a man who was a righteous pillar of masculine identity! He was strong! Disciplined! Gentle to the women! Firm with the women when they yammered on too long about needing an electric oven! And he taught me a VERY important lesson!

You wanna know what that lesson is, Mayfield?

Spare the rod, spoil the child. Do I LOOK spoiled to you? I most certainly do NOT you pack of worthless mongrels! MAYBE A LITTLE DISCIPLINE SHOULD BE INSERTED INTO WHERE YOUR SPINES SHOULD BE SO YOU DON'T LOSE YOUR GODDAMNED MINDS EVERY TIME SOMETHING HAPPENS IN THIS SHITHOLE LIE OF A TOWN!

AND WHERE THE HELL IS MY RIB SANDWICH!

[[ Be sure to check here and help me make sure I didn't forget anyone, orz ]]

Comments

[hauptschuss.livejournal.com]

You said you wanted a sandwich.

[unless-itsafarm.livejournal.com]

... You're making me a sandwich?

[hauptschuss.livejournal.com]

... unfortunately.

[unless-itsafarm.livejournal.com]

Unfortunately?! My dear woman you must be suffering hysteria if you think any opportunity to ingest ribs is an unfortunate situation. Make yourself one, too!

[hauptschuss.livejournal.com]

Eugh.

[She is, sadly, making herself a sandwich as well.]

[unless-itsafarm.livejournal.com]

-BEST DAY OF HIS LIFE, MAN.-

[hauptschuss.livejournal.com]

Tell me where you live.

[unless-itsafarm.livejournal.com]

849 Goldberg, ma'am.

[hauptschuss.livejournal.com]

Fine then.

[She's flavored it with rat poison for spite. Don't do it Ronald! It's a trap!]

[unless-itsafarm.livejournal.com]

-Oh he'll be able to tell. He works with Spies.-