The Chucks have been raiding us. Here and there. Hacking away the weakest of us, taking them down to the O2 bar for their meat. A few escapees told us the dead hung from pipes running along ceiling. Butchered human dead. Croissants and long pig, the greedy sons-of-bitches.
Well okay USA. USS Ronald Reagan dropped guns we asked for. Israeli Uzis. Camo pants. Survival knives. Face paint. Manuals on karate moves. A radio. Admiral Holmann says he can't land any Marines because we're in International Waters. We're taking this ship back tomorrow. Is tug real or a figment? We can't decide. Three days since I seen my wife.
Holmann dropping guns to the Chucks and the Black Angels (the Mexican sump gangs), plays some sort of game. See how he likes it when we shoot his fly thing down.
Sky bird falls and burns in ocean. Toilet shadow men come to take us more but we give them a fight. Can't remember...wife's name. Cindy? Mindy? Take new wife.
Talk plastic work again. NBC news want know who in charge. Captain hat is mine. Captain skin made from cape. USA Warriors control ship top. Down below belong to bad spirits.
Rock place in sight! Bare our teeth and sharpen our knife. USA Warrior is best fighter. Toughest of all!
One week free cruise and a refund? Uh, I had to pee in the same toilet as somebody else and I heard my pee stream hit a turd and also I had to eat a cold sandwich. The US Navy and Carnival Cruises can go fuck themselves. This is unacceptable. Prepare to hear from my attorney. I met him during a bloodbath in the oxygen bar. He does mostly patent law, but he's very good with an improvised sword.
Sir Mix-a-Lot's classic follow up to "Baby Got Back" has serious unintended consequences.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
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