Apparently infuriated that i was not around last weekend to receive the business end of a serious conversation, Hot Fudge decided to extract his vengeance by thieving 20 rolled cylinders of tobacco from my own bedroom.
What a low life. Maybe you can schedule a serious convo with a parole so he explain to you where this 'hard-knock' lifestyle of yours is taking you.
Directly to jail, scumbag.
Clemency will be granted if the following singular condition is met: at anytime during a serious conversation in which Hot Fudge is one of the two principles involved, I can demand Hot Fudge interjects mid sentence the sound of flatulence for a full 10 seconds.
If this condition is not met, I am taking Hot Fudge's life.
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