I can imagine that the insurgents thought of their "raid" as getting up on a huge slide and getting ready to go down it at full power. So they're sitting up there, making plans, thinking up schemes and rubbing their............hands.
Then they go down the slide. Down they go, building up momentum and unleashing all that energy, kinetic, thermal...........friction....
They're basically unleashing their anger on us.
Down the slide they go, faster and faster and even faster. Their MASSIVE attack is underway. And they're doing really, really well.
But as they get closer to the bottom they suddenly realize their mistake...
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Rack the fuck outta Chant!
Dear, sweet Harley Kwink...I'm madly in love with you. Marry me! We can go to Canadia. Or Boston or something. It'll be grand...You know the cookies are a given. They are ALWAYS a given. You could dump me tomorrow and you'd still get the cookies. Boston..shit, wherever dyke weddings were legalized. And where better to rub their little piggie noses in how bad they suck than right on their doorstep? What are they gonna do? Be jealous of you? Stare furiously at your tah-tahs? Not willingly give you cookies, but instead begrudgingly give you their cookies? Woman, time to wake up to the powers you wield - Uschi
