And, it's the possum in the lead with Coffin close behind.
Ladies and gentlemen, what a race! They're almost neck in neck!
Will the bellicose box take the day, trampling yet another swamp creature in the dust? Or will the possum pull this one off and live to flee another day?
And, most importantly, will that doofy-looking Frenchman get out of the way in time?
Ladies and Gentlemen, this is utterly unprecedented. Coffin, the great terror of Milieux's swamps (and also known as the Southern Dandy) is giving up the chase, and he's...
Yes! He's kicking dust in the fallen Frenchman's face.
Pip doesn't know. But he's inching forward towards where he hopes the knife is, so he can try to cut himself free and kick Coffin's non-existent wooden ass.
Alas, sports fans our wooden warrior has seemingly tired of this sport and is doing a solo conga line off into the swamp, trailing smoke along the way.
Ladies and gentlemen, what a race! They're almost neck in neck!
Will the bellicose box take the day, trampling yet another swamp creature in the dust? Or will the possum pull this one off and live to flee another day?
And, most importantly, will that doofy-looking Frenchman get out of the way in time?
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"//What the shitfuck is that?//"
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Ladies and Gentlemen, that's got to hurt.
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"What the bloody fuck!" Pip shouted as the Coffin ran over him.
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Ladies and Gentlemen, this is utterly unprecedented. Coffin, the great terror of Milieux's swamps (and also known as the Southern Dandy) is giving up the chase, and he's...
Yes! He's kicking dust in the fallen Frenchman's face.
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Fortunately, his eye was protected by the blindfold.
"I'm gonna kill you when I get these ropes off!"
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Because there's no way you can show that gesture on television.
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If he could, he probably would have had to process, ya know, the walking coffin thing.
But somehow, deep within his French heart, he knew what it was doing.
"Your mother's a whore!"
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As Coffin so aptly demonstrates by frisking the frantic Frenchman and...Yes! Stealing his cigarettes!
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Or it could be that Coffin simply has no empathy.
This announcer thinks the latter more likel as...the brazen box lights up a cigarette and blows smoke in the fractured Frog's face.
Seriously, how is it doing that?
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Ladies and Gentlemen, what a day at the races!
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He pulled off his blindfold and freed himself, looking around for at least one of the assholes who had beaten the crap of him.
But no one was to be found.
Bruised, scratched up, clawed up, and generally beaten up, Pip leaned against a weapons case.
"Shitfuck," he said, reaching for his pack of cigarettes.
Before remembering that that son of a bitch had taken them.
COFFIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!
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