Also Trump is reaching levels of absurdity only seen in Metal Wolf Chaos. If anyone is confused I can send you a link to a 2-hour play of it where they show the cutscenes because it's beautiful.
Reince Priebus sat alone in his room at the Hyatt, in just some day-old boxer shorts and a pair of black socks. He chuckled in a giddy, desperate way, then looked away from the television to the Ruger Redhawk sitting on top of the suit that was laid out on the bed. He shook his head, took a sip of scotch and mumbled, "ah jeepers", as he plodded toward the shower.
His Blackberry lay in a crumpled heap below the crater it had made in the wall the night before. Blinking fitfully, it beeped once, shuddered and finally fell still. A curl of smoke wandered out of the back as tears dried on its display.
Outside, an intern wandered the hall, retching quietly.
A hotel maid approached looking first at the intern and then at the door to Priebus' room. "No, no", he said, then took a hand towel from the maid's cart, held it to his face, and began sobbing uncontrollably.
The pneumatic injector coughed as the sedative blasted into his neck. The maid's eyes grew fearfully huge as the Intern collapsed backwards into the arms of the burly, black suited men. Where did they come from? she thought, staring wildly up and down the hall. The tall one in sunglasses stepped in close, saying "Don't worry. We'll take good care of him." He peeled off a number of unmarked large bills from an Ayn Rand money clip, stuffing them in her apron. "If you're smart, you will be quiet. If you are lucky, you'll never see me again" He grinned.
He stared at her until she collapsed to the floor in fear.
Moments later, the surveillance cameras for the hallways on the floor in question flickered back to life.
The section 5 CRT's frozen images flickered back to life at once. If the security guards were awake, they would have seen – just for a moment – several dark out-of -focus figures at the end of the hall carrying what looked like a large sack.
The maid, out of view in the camera's foreground, stood and softly wheeled her cart away.
A lone hand towel lay crumpled in the middle of the carpeted floor.
Reince stepped out of the shower, still very drunk, groping for a towel. He thought about the Ruger and wondered again whether the speed loader was still in the false bottom of his briefcase.
There were three sharp knocks at the door. A low voice, a voice accustomed to authority, called out, 'Room service!"
"Uh…uh…Just a moment!." He slipped the Ruger into the right hand pocket of his bathrobe. It didn't quite fit so he kept his hand in the pocket as he walked to the door and looked through the lens.
It took a few seconds for Reince's eye to focus, but then what he saw sent a surge of adrenalin through his system.
It was Jesse Watters in heavy brown pancake and black wig, the pink collar of a Merrie Maids costume peeking into view.
"Bull SHIT Room Service!" he bellowed. "I know you Jesse, you degenerate scumbag! Ailes sent you, didn't he? Well, you can just FUCK RIGHT OFF!" he held the Ruger up close to the door, cocking it in the sudden silence.
"We just want to talk to you, really!" Watters said in a frantic, high voice, "It won't be like the last time, I promise!" dark, amorphous shadows seemed to move behind him.
"What the fuck? What the FUCK?" he asked himself, tapping the pistol rhythmically against his temple. "THINK, God damn it!"
There was a plink/thunk sound as a bullet pierced the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, then lodged in the box spring of the bed, not ten feet away.
"Reince. you okay in there, buddy?", Watters asked from the hall.
"Sniper!" Reince hit the floor. Then: "They don't know!" He was completely sober now. In a cold moment of preternatural clarity he'd think about for years, he knew exactly what he needed to do. "The longshot of longshots" he mumbled, "No other choice."
"All right, you bastards, I'm coming out!"
"Thank God", Jesse said.
Reince, silently, began the count "ONE one thousand"
Reaching up, he unlatched the security bar…
"TWO one thousand"
He stood up in front of the door. His skin crawled and the hair stood right up on his neck…
"THREE one thousand"
He unlocked the door, took three quick steps straight back…
"FOUR one thousand"
The door rammed inwards as the FOX SS man rushed in, Taser held high.
Reince dropped straight down to the floor and the SS man's chest blew open in a shower of red. Springing up, he jumped over the still rolling guard and ran out the door, body slamming Watters to the far wall. Reince brought the Ruger's muzzle right up under his jaw. Watters whimpered once and froze.
"You and me" Reince said. "We're gettin' outta here."
"Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, what – "
"Shut up. Walk"
Reince spun Watters around and pressed the muzzle hard against the small of his back. Beads of sweat appeared on the Fox man's neck; he smelled like pancake makeup, cheap cologne, and fear. As they started down the hall, Reince turned his head to check behind them. "Check the doors" he breathed into Watters' ear. As they passed each room Watters reached out and tried the handle. Locked. Locked. His hand was trembling. Back down the hall and around a corner, came the ding of an elevator arriving.
Watters tried the next door and it opened! Reince pushed him inside, roughly propelling him several stumbling steps into the room. He had the presence of mind to shut the door very softly, then turned around with his back to the wall, listening for sounds out in the hallway.
<img src="http://www.troll.me/images2/ryu/what-the-fuck-am-i-watching.jpg">
Is this the beginning of the Trumpjugend?
♪ tehRumpland, tehRumpland über alles,
Über alles in der Welt ♪
They're so cute.
<img src="http://www.germaniainternational.com/images/hyladheader01.jpg"/>
You just have to wonder about their parents . . . .
Florida Nazis. I hate Florida Nazis.
Florida Nazis. Why'd it have to be Florida Nazis?
Elwood: It's 912 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, we're in Florida, and we're watching Nazis.
Jake: Hit it.
<img src="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CJFSH9QVAAAOjns.jpg:large" width="264" height="345" />
That video's still worse.
But coupled with Nikki's push-back, that was obviously approved by Rinsed Pubes, bet tehRump's poll points move north.
/ shudders
Donald likes 'em young….better get those cuties off the stage well in advance of his arrival.
Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Trümper!
"When fascism comes to America it will be draped in the flag and carrying a cross." I don't see any sign of the cross in the video.
Also, too, is that Jimmy Johnson front and center in the audience?
|Morgen gehört mir|
lol
Also Trump is reaching levels of absurdity only seen in Metal Wolf Chaos. If anyone is confused I can send you a link to a 2-hour play of it where they show the cutscenes because it's beautiful.
Ow, my soul!
Reince Priebus sat alone in his room at the Hyatt, in just some day-old boxer shorts and a pair of black socks. He chuckled in a giddy, desperate way, then looked away from the television to the Ruger Redhawk sitting on top of the suit that was laid out on the bed. He shook his head, took a sip of scotch and mumbled, "ah jeepers", as he plodded toward the shower.
His Blackberry lay in a crumpled heap below the crater it had made in the wall the night before. Blinking fitfully, it beeped once, shuddered and finally fell still. A curl of smoke wandered out of the back as tears dried on its display.
Outside, an intern wandered the hall, retching quietly.
A hotel maid approached looking first at the intern and then at the door to Priebus' room. "No, no", he said, then took a hand towel from the maid's cart, held it to his face, and began sobbing uncontrollably.
The pneumatic injector coughed as the sedative blasted into his neck. The maid's eyes grew fearfully huge as the Intern collapsed backwards into the arms of the burly, black suited men. Where did they come from? she thought, staring wildly up and down the hall. The tall one in sunglasses stepped in close, saying "Don't worry. We'll take good care of him." He peeled off a number of unmarked large bills from an Ayn Rand money clip, stuffing them in her apron. "If you're smart, you will be quiet. If you are lucky, you'll never see me again" He grinned.
He stared at her until she collapsed to the floor in fear.
Moments later, the surveillance cameras for the hallways on the floor in question flickered back to life.
The section 5 CRT's frozen images flickered back to life at once. If the security guards were awake, they would have seen – just for a moment – several dark out-of -focus figures at the end of the hall carrying what looked like a large sack.
The maid, out of view in the camera's foreground, stood and softly wheeled her cart away.
A lone hand towel lay crumpled in the middle of the carpeted floor.
Reince stepped out of the shower, still very drunk, groping for a towel. He thought about the Ruger and wondered again whether the speed loader was still in the false bottom of his briefcase.
There were three sharp knocks at the door. A low voice, a voice accustomed to authority, called out, 'Room service!"
"Uh…uh…Just a moment!." He slipped the Ruger into the right hand pocket of his bathrobe. It didn't quite fit so he kept his hand in the pocket as he walked to the door and looked through the lens.
It took a few seconds for Reince's eye to focus, but then what he saw sent a surge of adrenalin through his system.
It was Jesse Watters in heavy brown pancake and black wig, the pink collar of a Merrie Maids costume peeking into view.
"Bull SHIT Room Service!" he bellowed. "I know you Jesse, you degenerate scumbag! Ailes sent you, didn't he? Well, you can just FUCK RIGHT OFF!" he held the Ruger up close to the door, cocking it in the sudden silence.
"We just want to talk to you, really!" Watters said in a frantic, high voice, "It won't be like the last time, I promise!" dark, amorphous shadows seemed to move behind him.
"What the fuck? What the FUCK?" he asked himself, tapping the pistol rhythmically against his temple. "THINK, God damn it!"
There was a plink/thunk sound as a bullet pierced the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, then lodged in the box spring of the bed, not ten feet away.
"Reince. you okay in there, buddy?", Watters asked from the hall.
"Sniper!" Reince hit the floor. Then: "They don't know!" He was completely sober now. In a cold moment of preternatural clarity he'd think about for years, he knew exactly what he needed to do. "The longshot of longshots" he mumbled, "No other choice."
"All right, you bastards, I'm coming out!"
"Thank God", Jesse said.
Reince, silently, began the count "ONE one thousand"
Reaching up, he unlatched the security bar…
"TWO one thousand"
He stood up in front of the door. His skin crawled and the hair stood right up on his neck…
"THREE one thousand"
He unlocked the door, took three quick steps straight back…
"FOUR one thousand"
The door rammed inwards as the FOX SS man rushed in, Taser held high.
Reince dropped straight down to the floor and the SS man's chest blew open in a shower of red. Springing up, he jumped over the still rolling guard and ran out the door, body slamming Watters to the far wall. Reince brought the Ruger's muzzle right up under his jaw. Watters whimpered once and froze.
"You and me" Reince said. "We're gettin' outta here."
"Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, what – "
"Shut up. Walk"
Reince spun Watters around and pressed the muzzle hard against the small of his back. Beads of sweat appeared on the Fox man's neck; he smelled like pancake makeup, cheap cologne, and fear. As they started down the hall, Reince turned his head to check behind them. "Check the doors" he breathed into Watters' ear. As they passed each room Watters reached out and tried the handle. Locked. Locked. His hand was trembling. Back down the hall and around a corner, came the ding of an elevator arriving.
Watters tried the next door and it opened! Reince pushed him inside, roughly propelling him several stumbling steps into the room. He had the presence of mind to shut the door very softly, then turned around with his back to the wall, listening for sounds out in the hallway.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ZOMG!!
You're bad people. As am I.
The story is more believable than Donald Trump's candidacy.