I’m riding horses with Terry Bradshaw and Toby Keith. They’re making their humorous sales pitch for whatever they’re selling. We laugh, then…
…out pops Carrot-Top carrying a payphone, stampedes our cattle then proceeds with his asinine drivel about 1-800-blah-blah-blah.
Without hesitation, Terry, Toby, and I pull our Russian AKM assault rifles from our custom-made saddle holsters and happily proceed to fill Carrot-Fuck with a few magazines full of 7.62x39 ball ammunition. A few tracer rounds mixed in give Carrot-Fuck’s lifeless, twitching corpse a cool green hazy effect as the vultures move in to clean up.
God, that’s an irritating commercial.