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You heard of the Three Amigos, meet the Three Idiots...

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posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 06:44 PM
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"They put mayo on my sandwich. I distinctly asked for no mayo." Uttered DB in a sullen voice.




posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 06:51 PM
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originally posted by: IAMTAT
"Truly, I say, these sandwiches are of a most pleasing sort", said IAMTAT.

"Perchance, yon witchy wimmin folk might also don comely garbs of fine lace and silk...whereby, they shall then amuse us merry idiots with a fine battle of mortal combat armed only with utensils of the scullery."

The Three Idiots found this idea most pleasing and cast their eyes with expectant gaze kitchen-ward in rapt anticipation.



The Three Idiots, the Battle Pool filled with Jell-O, reclined in their perfectly ass-grooved recliners, icy beers at hand, as they fight to the death began. They all knew there would be much hair pulling, eye scratching and general feline-like behavior amongst the scantily clad combatants so as any well-experienced viewers of such bloody sport are wont to do they began to place bets on the outcome. Which witch would emerge victorious? It mattered not as they would tear each other apart in a violent display of hormone-induced mayhem so gruesome it would make Eli Roth cringe in terror.



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 06:52 PM
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originally posted by: DBCowboy
"They put mayo on my sandwich. I distinctly asked for no mayo." Uttered DB in a sullen voice.


"Fear not, fine sir", said Mason...a cheerful glint blossoming within his eye.
"Punishment will be swift and...There WILL be Blood."

edit on 20-3-2017 by IAMTAT because: (no reason given)



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 07:10 PM
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Scream could be heard from miles around. The sounds of utter chaos frightened the townsfolk. Shutters were closed, doors were bolted, families huddled in darkened corners, fearing for their lives.


Yet the screams continued.


The bikini waxing has begun.



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 07:14 PM
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Merry rounds of farts erupted in unison from the three sammich-munching idiots as the comely, scantily-clad witches continued their intense jello-lubricated battle royale.

Nutslurp, proud and faithful hound of IAMTAT, looked on with growing expectation of claiming the vanquished she-devils currently locked in mortal combat.



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 07:21 PM
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In a moment of clarity, DB jumped up and shouted, "Stop! For who would make thine sammiches if the evil witch wimmin destroy themselves in jello-covered mortal combat?"



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 07:28 PM
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originally posted by: DBCowboy
In a moment of clarity, DB jumped up and shouted, "Stop! For who would make thine sammiches if the evil witch wimmin destroy themselves in jello-covered mortal combat?"


"Verily, thou speakest truth", said Tat.

"Yon she-witches are of far more value than for mere passing bloodsport...however, jello-clad, lubricated and scantily attired they may very well be. "

"...besides",said Tat..."I need another beer and my pantaloons now seem strangely fused with mine stool."



edit on 20-3-2017 by IAMTAT because: (no reason given)



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 07:37 PM
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I'm sorry it's all rusted.
I didn't clean my gun.
In the foxholes it got dusted.

I figured let's make war,
To have a bit of fun.
You mean this is serious?
It's almost like the elves,
When they bring out Legolas.

Thousands laying dead.
Nation against nation.
I guess it wasn't just
A silly recreation.
edit on 20-3-2017 by halfoldman because: (no reason given)



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:08 PM
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a reply to: DBCowboy

Here ya go sweetie.


No mayo.

There's a saying about a way to a man's heart.

I have found it a good way to get a man on my menu.

I know how to cook.

Wis is our Chef in the "Shed" I am here Su Chef.



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:13 PM
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a reply to: crappiekat

Peace rests across the lands as sammiches are served and happiness reigns.



For now.



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:20 PM
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a reply to: DBCowboy

Creamy, cheesy gooeyness satiated the Idiots and their rancorous demeanor calmed as they devoured the sammiches.



How long would this peaceful interlude last? Would the Wimmin remember to take out the trash and vacuum? Only time would tell...



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:21 PM
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Amidst the ongoing festivities and typical female carnage...a mysterious stranger silently entered the bar.

The wimmin witch folk suddenly ceased biting, scratching and otherwise seductively tearing off each other's ferret bikini tops... and the idiots abruptly curtailed their merry-making and profuse farting.

All heads slowly turned in unison towards the stranger. Dressed in Mage garb, he abruptly slammed his gnarled wooden staff upon the bar top and ordered a Bacardi and Windex.

"Who be you, strange one?"...Glurg Wasserman-Shultz, the deformed Troll barkeep asked.

"I have many names", the stranger replied in an ambiguously foreign and gravelly voice.

"But you may call me 'halfoldman'!"



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:29 PM
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originally posted by: IAMTAT

"But you may call me 'halfoldman'!"



It got so quiet in the bar that you could hear a dingo eat a baby.



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:31 PM
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originally posted by: DBCowboy

originally posted by: IAMTAT

"But you may call me 'halfoldman'!"



It got so quiet in the bar that you could hear a dingo eat a baby.


...but then the dingo finished eating the baby and let out a loud belch.



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:39 PM
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a reply to: IAMTAT

Zazz, the Dingo Witch has returned from exile!



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:44 PM
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Okay, so it wasn't a real baby....

...but a very realistic baby human-flavored doll...which really gave the dingo extreme intestinal discomfort, resulting in more extreme belching and projectile diarrhea.

The entire bar broke out in raucous laughter at the profound deluge of dingo feces...and the uncomfortable silence was abruptly shattered.

edit on 20-3-2017 by IAMTAT because: (no reason given)



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:51 PM
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Suddenly, The Mason stood up and pointed at the dingo splatter and saw the Sign of Destiny.

(Every already knows that dingo feces is the only way to properly tell the future.)

"Yon dingo poo points the way, Idiots! We must head south by way of going north, to the east mountains of the west!"

edit on 20-3-2017 by DBCowboy because: (no reason given)



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 08:51 PM
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originally posted by: crappiekat
a reply to: DBCowboy

Here ya go sweetie.


No mayo.

There's a saying about a way to a man's heart.

I have found it a good way to get a man on my menu.

I know how to cook.

Wis is our Chef in the "Shed" I am here Su Chef.


The quickest and best way (I've found) is still...straight through his chest.


Yummy looking sammich BTW Kat!



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 09:09 PM
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originally posted by: DBCowboy

Suddenly, The Mason stood up and pointed at the dingo splatter and saw the Sign of Destiny.

(Every already knows that dingo feces is the only way to properly tell the future.)

"Yon dingo poo points the way, Idiots! We must head south by way of going north, to the east mountains of the west!"


"I would read a map," The Evil Mason began, "but I'm a dude and I don't ask for directions, so there is a high probability we will get lost so our best bet is to have the Wimmin prepare us some sammiches for the road. Also, see if they have any french fried taters and a couple cans'o that potted meat if they got any extree."



posted on Mar, 20 2017 @ 09:10 PM
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originally posted by: DBCowboy
Suddenly, The Mason stood up and pointed at the dingo splatter and saw the Sign of Destiny.

(Every already knows that dingo feces is the only way to properly tell the future.)

"Yon dingo poo points the way, Idiots! We must head south by way of going north, to the east mountains of the west!"


And so their journey begins.

Smearing dingo poop on their elbows for good luck...(and to repel the dreaded dingo witch) the 3 idiots bid fare-thee-well to the old tavern, stepped outside...and mounted their llamas.

After they all finished mounting their llamas, they smoked a cigarette...and went back inside again to tell the wimmin folk to make them more sandwiches.



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