chickens!

What? No one wants to play?

Boo!

You’re going to make me regale you with stories of picking fresh dog poo out of the yard so that I could put it IN MY FRIDGE and then bring it to the vet, aren’t you? You’re going to make me rain down upon you with minstrels of milk blisters, giant yogurt-inspired baby farts, and $18 two dose puppy pain meds.

It’ll be your fault when I ulneash these gory tales on you. Your fault for not playing the "let’s all get along and tell a story" game. The Token Conservative commentor is crying in his beer RIGHT NOW because no one has followed up his elegant and thought-provoking addition to the story of the boy name Sue.

For shaaaaaaame.

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