We just raised the white-trash levels up like, eight notches.
"WOMAN, DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I'm going to Wal-Mart to pick up the light beer, and then we're going to make nasty grease-sex in the truck!"
"Somebody told me when the bomb hits, everybody in a two mile radius will be instantly sublimated, but if you lay face down on the ground for some time, avoiding the residual ripples of heat, you might survive, permanently fucked up and twisted like you're always underwater refracted. But if you do go gas, there's nothing you can do if the air that was once you is mingled and mashed with the kicked up molecules of the enemy's former body. Big-kid-tested, motherf--ker approved."
