[Okay Mayfield, you may suck and smell of Capitalism but at least you deliver
SWEET ASS TANKS right on time because there is now one (1) TANK in the possession of one (1) Russia.
And this calls for one thing. Get smashed. Drive.
A) He is driving it (drunkenly) down the street. And by that I mean over your lawn.
B) He has spotted you on the sidewalk
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Comrade? Is that really-?
[OH SWEET, SWEET FAMILIAR SOVIET TANK. She remembers driving one of these, and probably still has a few parked at home somewhere. She wants it. Badly.]
--allow me to leave before you fire. [And she proceeds to jump out of the window. Yeah, from the second floor. She lands very neatly.]
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...Comrade does not happen to have any ammunition on her~?
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Most of my things are at your house, but I have this.
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Want to make sure there is nothing left of house of America.
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Would only take a matter of hours with how he is eating.
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Perhaps I will.
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[and she won't admit to having more or less learned the truth of that on Mother's Day, because, honestly, she is in complete and utter denial of it.]
...I will follow your guidance, comrade.
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...Is sure is not having any bigger ammunition?
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