when your kneecaps start vibrating signaling the british are coming so you run to the hen that lives in your kitchen cabinet and beg it for the nearest condiment factory to snort all the mustard and run back home to feed your pet termites instead of unscrewing the door to your grandma’s bathroom and then you go feed your termites to the bees who then get fed to the lipstick factory to make bee poop colored lipstick but then you start crying because you miss your wife george washington after he divorced you and signed the papers with your wet sock dipped in mashed hash brown juice

(LMAO YOU THOUGHT)