| Comment | I had a similar problem with the local cocaine dealer, here's how I sorted him out. It was cold the day I killed the dealer. And I don't mean snowy mountain in Wyoming cold... Colder than that. And on that cold day, with the dealer at the business end of my gun barrel... I made him STRIP. Right down to his bare ass. Then I told him to start walkin'. I walked his naked ass for two hours... 'fore the cold collapsed him. Then he commits to beggin' again. But this time, he wasn't beggin' to go home. He knew he'd never see his home again. And he wasn't beggin' for his life neither, 'cause he knew that was long gone. All he wanted, was a BLANKET. Now don't judge the dealer harshly, General. You ain't never been cold as the dealer was that day. You'd be surprised; what a man that cold, would-do-for-a-blanket. You wanna know what the dealer did? I pulled my BIG, BLACK, PECKER outta my pants. And I made him crawl in the snow on all fours over to it. Then I grabbed a handful of that black hair at the back of his head... And I stuck my Big Black Johnson right down his goddamn throat! And it was fulla' blood... so it was warm. Oh, you bet your sweet ass it was warm. And the dealer sucked on that warm black dingus for as long as he could.
Btw that didn't happen I just stole it from The Hateful Eight. |
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