The worst was when Trump's hair came after it. Like fine, wispy apricot tentacles it got
Rick's hair in its grip, going every which way without rhyme nor reason. "LOSER! LOSER RICK! I WILL SUCK OUT YOUR BODY AND MAKE IT MY OWN!" Rick's hair panicked and gave Perry a motivating stab. "NO, NOT MY LUSTROUS BODY! I QUIT! I QUIT!"
"HA HA! TRUMP'S HAIR WINS AGAIN! TRUMP'S HAIR CAN NEVER DIE! IT IS
QUALITY, CLASSY HAIR! PERRY'S HAIR IS, BE HONEST, NOT SO GOOD!" "DAMN YOU TRUMP'S HAIR!" wailed a sobbing, broken Rick Perry like a
little girl whose lollipop had been shat upon. "DAMN YOU TO HELL!"
"Eternity in the company of Beelzebub, and all of his hellish instruments of death, will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me & this pencil." --E. Blackadder, 1789 Questionable
words & pictures from John Linton Roberson