Id run out to lawn and garden, climb up to a cozy quiet place, take me a nice little nap. Once the noise is over from falling pallets of tile and screams from buring to death of wasp spray and propane, Ill sneak out of my cozy spot, picking up Jester's broom handled knife, Brad's chainsaw, and whatever else you dead guys chose and go after that one dude with only 2-3 things left.
Since the place is barley lit then: thin wire or rope, WD40, lighter. Hide in the middle of the store where there is barely any light, set up trip wire, play injured or just wait, when opponent trips I light him up.
Posted from the safety of his trailer 1350 miles away.
Hey I would've kept talking shit even after the baseball bat fiasco, but all you bitches decided to bounce. Why didn't you invite Slap the Backfat Matt to ride along with you? Afraid you wouldn't of been able to squeeze back into Ricky's jalopy for your getaway? Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is more pussy than having Al drive that black pile of shit for you. You are the original Driving Miss Daisy.
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