Recent Articles
- Art
- Articles
- Cheese
- Chemistry
- Cleberty
- Devil's List
- Economics
- Farmers
- Feedback
- George Orwell
- Golden Whip of Unusualness
- Good Words
- Inventory
- Lady C-3PO
- Location
- Mail Harry
- Methods of Escape
- New Computer Smell
- New Years Resolutions
- Padiddle
- Pataphor
- People Who Don't Live in Cardboard Towns
- Petty Justified
- Pokemon Soccer
- Punching People in the Head
|
| This website and its contents are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License |
Say, "Guns, lots of guns."
"Guns," you say, "lots of guns."
The waiter looks at you weird and says, "What about them?"
"I want them, stupid!" you shout needlessly.
A bit later the waiter returns and roughly dumps a giant sack full of guns on the table. Several guns and plates clatter to the floor and shatter. The salad is ruined.
"Anything else?" the waiter asks.
You grab them by the apron and pull them close. "MORE" you whisper-shout.
Soon you're sitting in a small mountain of guns spilling off the table and all over the floor. Everyone is staring at you. You look very pleased with yourself.
"Okay," you say, "Let's rock and roll."
You pick up an MP5 variant and attempt to cock it with a weird karate chop movement but you only succeed in pinching your hand.
It hurts a lot.