The Sky Is Falling! The Sky Is Falling!
"The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" cried Donnie Grumplin. "There's drugs, criminals, and rapists streaming across our borders!"
"Look!" Donnie Grumplin points out across the open border. "There's the caravan coming now! It's huuuuge! Look at the dust it's kicking up!"
Donnie Grumplin makes one last desperate plea. "Build the wall now!"
"Knock the crisis fabricated story off already, Donnie," challenged Nancy Pelistorki. "That's probably Miguel delivering my authentic Mexican burrito for dinner."
"It's an inundation by the brown tide," retorted Annie Coiture. "Two years in and Grumplin has built zero miles of wall to stop the flood!"
"We haven't built the wall because Pochantas won't give me the money," sneered Donnie Grumplin. "She's using my money to stuff her peace pipe."
"That could be a caravan," reasoned Bennie Scampiro. "It might be a dust devil, too, and nothing more."
"So now the Mexicans are dust devils," screamed Nancy Pelistorki. "We need less evil stereotyping and more open arms."
"See? The caravan or dust devil doesn't matter to the liberals," triumphed Bennie Scampiro. "Open borders is all that matters to them. Free flowing Mexicans, drugs, and burritos is all Nancy wants."
"Those burritos are proven abortifacients," warned Mattie Falshe. "Eat one and your insides are cleaned of all parasites...and unborn babies."
"That's because nothing good ever comes from south of the border," chimed in Annie Coiture.
"We need a wall now before the human tragedy of the caravan gets to our border!" pleaded Donnie Grumplin.
"Excuse me sir, madam, or generic pronoun you prefer," Mr. Gonzalez politely said. "I took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Could you point me to my home in Toronto?"
The befuddled border patrol agent hesitantly pointed north.
"Oh, can you deliver this to Nancy Pelistorki for me?" asked Mr. Gonzalez. He handed a burrito to the border patrol agent and left a dust devil behind as he hurried northward.
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"Look!" Donnie Grumplin points out across the open border. "There's the caravan coming now! It's huuuuge! Look at the dust it's kicking up!"
Donnie Grumplin makes one last desperate plea. "Build the wall now!"
"Knock the crisis fabricated story off already, Donnie," challenged Nancy Pelistorki. "That's probably Miguel delivering my authentic Mexican burrito for dinner."
"It's an inundation by the brown tide," retorted Annie Coiture. "Two years in and Grumplin has built zero miles of wall to stop the flood!"
"We haven't built the wall because Pochantas won't give me the money," sneered Donnie Grumplin. "She's using my money to stuff her peace pipe."
"That could be a caravan," reasoned Bennie Scampiro. "It might be a dust devil, too, and nothing more."
"So now the Mexicans are dust devils," screamed Nancy Pelistorki. "We need less evil stereotyping and more open arms."
"See? The caravan or dust devil doesn't matter to the liberals," triumphed Bennie Scampiro. "Open borders is all that matters to them. Free flowing Mexicans, drugs, and burritos is all Nancy wants."
"Those burritos are proven abortifacients," warned Mattie Falshe. "Eat one and your insides are cleaned of all parasites...and unborn babies."
"That's because nothing good ever comes from south of the border," chimed in Annie Coiture.
"We need a wall now before the human tragedy of the caravan gets to our border!" pleaded Donnie Grumplin.
"Excuse me sir, madam, or generic pronoun you prefer," Mr. Gonzalez politely said. "I took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Could you point me to my home in Toronto?"
The befuddled border patrol agent hesitantly pointed north.
"Oh, can you deliver this to Nancy Pelistorki for me?" asked Mr. Gonzalez. He handed a burrito to the border patrol agent and left a dust devil behind as he hurried northward.
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Bubba Joe Crowley: Just a good ol' boy having fun. |
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