"Ew man, might want to see a dermotologist about that. Just sayin'."
Oh you fucking people! I guess you want some fucking food too, huh shitnose?
"Uh yeah, i'll have a number 3."
Yeah yeah ratshit pooballs. Would you like some motherfucking cheese with that?
"Uh, no cheese. Thanks."
I WILL EAT YOUR FUCKING BRAINS!
"Oh, I see. You get your meat from England, don't you?"
- Mr. Dude from Postal 2: Apocalypse Weekend talking with a Mad Cow Tourettes Zombie.
(Most fucked up game ever. Truly.)
*pulls hair* WRYYYYYYYYYYY isn't this butter? FUCK YOU HORSEMAN!
OH FUCK
THE MODS
RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIFE
[USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS ROAST]
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Oh you fucking people! I guess you want some fucking food too, huh shitnose?
"Uh yeah, i'll have a number 3."
Yeah yeah ratshit pooballs. Would you like some motherfucking cheese with that?
"Uh, no cheese. Thanks."
I WILL EAT YOUR FUCKING BRAINS!
"Oh, I see. You get your meat from England, don't you?"
- Mr. Dude from Postal 2: Apocalypse Weekend talking with a Mad Cow Tourettes Zombie.
(Most fucked up game ever. Truly.)