Quick, UncleBeer. Run for your life. See, I know what a Swiss Rub is, and it ain’t pretty, dammit.
Swiss Rub? Never hoid of it. Spill it Mr. Cold F. Ire.
I can’t reveal all the details (and boy, they are gory!), Arnold would kill me. Suffice it to say that it involves a large Alpenhorn being shoved up your rear. And that’s BEFORE they bring on the purple Milka cow.