|Posted - 2017.09.12 03:31:00 -
 - Quote
Neck: For the love of fu ck, Alias, are we almost there?
Alias: I'd say yes, but I'd be lying.
Blitz: What the fu ck do you fa ggots usually do to kill time?
DK: Well, we generally wait for Neck to say some dumb sh it, or we ask Neck a question so he'll say some dumb sh it.
Neck: Exactly. All these dumb cucks do is wait for me to grace them with my wisdom.
Shep: How did you get "wisdom" from "dumb sh it?"
Neck: It was the only logical conclusion I could draw from what DK said.
Shep: Please elaborate.
Neck: Well, DK is a stupid fu cking re tard, so whatever he says is wrong. So if he says I say dumb sh it, then I actually am gracing you cavemen with my fu cking nuggets of wisdom.
Shep: So, your reality is dictated by whatever DK says? Doesn't that pretty much make YOU a cuck?
Neck: No, co ck-su ck. I said the opposite of whatever he says.
Alias: Doesn't "cuck" backwards pretty much still spell cuck, though?
DK: Neck, you're very handsome and intelligent in addition to being very manly and fun to be around.
Neck: You shut your ni gger mouth!
Blitz: You guys are huge fa ggots. This is the best conversation you're capable of having? For the love of Hit ler, someone give us something even remotely interesting to discuss.
Alias: What race do you guys hate the most?
Blitz: Now we're talking. That's a tough one, though.
DK: Is it?
Blitz: No, I hate Mexicans the most.
Alias: Hey, me, too.
Shep: I hate the Jews and the Mongolians.
Blitz: Oh, fu ck. I completely suppressed the Jews from my memory until you reminded me. Yeah, fu ck the Jews.
DK: Well, the Mexicans are definitely mine. Especially the Puerto Rican Mexicans.
Blitz: What about you, micro-pe nis?
Neck: Probably the Mongolians, too.
Alias: Are you serious?
Neck: Fu ck, no. FU CK. THE. MOTHER-FU CKING. NI GGERSSSSS.
Shep: Isn't that trope getting a little old, Neck?
Neck: Isn't the Emancipation Proclamation getting a little old?
Shep: I'm surprised you even know what that is.
Neck: Are you kidding me? I have nightmares about it almost every night and wet dreams about destroying it the rest of the nights.
DK: Do you really?
Neck: Fu ck no. I dream about smashing your Mom's sweet pu ssy more than I already do.
Neck: Fu ck no. I dream about letting Gustavo pike all of you and then me lynching that fu cking ni gger. I mean kind gentleman.
DK: For real?
Neck: Fu ck no. I relive the night my dad died every night.
Neck: Fu ck no. I usually have a recurring dream about Weird Al and Kid Rock teaming up to craft a song just for me called "Killing Ni ggers All Summer Long In Alabama."
DK: Wow, really?
Neck: Fu ck no, I wrote that sh it myself. I don't really have dreams.
Alias: Hey, guys, we're here.
Alias: Fu ck no.
Neck: Fu cking f agwad.
Alias: But, yeah, really.
DK: And where are we, exactly?
Alias: The weapons of mass production factory.
Shep: So, you're telling me there's a factory to produce weapons of mass production which produce weapons of mass destruction?
Neck: Yeah, is that too much for your baby-di ck-sized brain to comprehend?
Shep: Neck, if you weren't a lobotomized chimp, you'd understand why that's questionable.
Neck: Oh, I'm sure, fu cking f aggot.
Blitz: So, what's the plan, insects?
DK: Uh, shouldn't you be the one with the plan? Isn't that why Gustavo sent you with us?
Blitz: Well, my plan would have been to dominate them with our superior gun game, but you see how that's not an option with you infants.
Neck: Well, you better come up with something, fa glord, or Gustavo isn't going to be too happy.
Blitz: Fu cking fine. Fuhrer knows you lower-order mammals will never come up with anything usable. Here's what we're going to do: drive the tank through that wall, then one of you fu ckers with plot armor jump out and grab what we need.
Alias: That's it?
Blitz: You think it's not going to work?
Alias: Well, in the past when we tried to go right up and grab what we needed it didn't really work.
Blitz: We have a fu cking tank.
Alias: Well, we did have a gun and we still couldn't get some comics from some middle-schooler.
Blitz: Fascinating, but not surprising.
DK: Do we even know what the things look like?
Neck: It's a fu cking factory that makes them. Won't they be all over the fu cking place?
Shep: Sounds like Neck wants to be the one who grabs them.
Neck: Fu ck yeah, I'll just jump out with my big di ck out and they'll think it's an AK or some sh it then I'll say "give me all your money and that sh it Gustavo wanted," then I'll nab all of it and hop back in.
Blitz: I'm kind of thinking we don't let the most brain-dead troglodyte here do the most important job.
Neck: Then how about you just do it, you fu cking piece of sh it?
Blitz: You know what, anything is better than listening to this dribble. Drive, Alias.
Alias: Which way?
Shep: What do you mean "which way?"
Alias: I mean, forward, backward, or to McDonald's. It could mean any of those.
Neck: Fu cking forward.
Alias: OK, but I'm just using this factory as a short-cut to McDonald's.
DK: Holy sh it, that's a lot of go oks.
Shep: Fu cking Mongolians.
Neck: OK, Genghis Khan, hand over the weapons.
Feedback: OK, no shoot.
Neck: Blitz, jump out and grab that sh it already.
Blitz: Thought you might want a good-bye kiss first, sweetheart.
Feedback: Hee you go, mista. No fucki-fucki. No sucki-sucki.
Blitz: Don't fu cking touch me.
Alias: Ready to go?
Blitz: First, blow these ch inks to he ll.
DK: Wait, why?
Blitz: No witnesses.
Shep: Well, they are Mongolians. You know how they like to gossip.
Neck: But they aren't even ni ggers.
Shep: It's worse. They're Asian ni ggers.
Neck: I mean, that isn't worse, but it is understandable.
Alias: OK, later, Japs.
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