I didn’t want it to come to this, but…
Throws in a mighty lobster and magnet!
You cannot harm the lobster, he’ll use his magnet to escape!
Well…we all know what beats Rock…
I attack with…(suspense)…PAPER
Hell, this is easy. I’ll just go with scissors.
Nah, that’s not to creative. Paper will fall easily to my IT, Ginger.
IT? There’s only one thing that can beat IT, the same thing that has destroyed all the IT majors here,
An EMAC Major!
His mighty knowledge of webpages and graphic design will crush your puny, outdated IT!
Haha! An Emac major’s skills are worthless when self-coding HTML templates and programs such as Dreamweaver and Ultadev are in the market. And just for kicks, I’ll send in the **Olsen Twins upon you!
*hmm… I see that bouv is using the ancient strategy of hitting large scissors with an even bigger rock…
perhaps he has forgotten that even a scrap of paper still defeats a boulder…*
I easily defeat your EMAC Major with my Script to Monty Python and the Holy Grail… none dare resist its awesome power…
Your Script of Monty Python and the Holy Grail is handily tortured into submission with a comfy chair by The Spanish Inquisition (nobody expected that, did they?)
Meanwhile, I send in a 96-hour marathon of “The Gary Coleman Show” on Cartoon Network. Do your worst.
Having thoroughly reviewed the video tapes of this gruesome battle, I see that The Fear, Surprise, and Ruthless Efficiency of the Spanish Inquisition is unavailable, according to jr8, therefore I will instead lock your Script of Monty Python and the Holy Grail in a small broom closet inhabited by Jesse Helms, Jesse Jackson, and Jesse Ventura.
Easily defeated with a phone call to Lyndon Larouche.
I’ll test your might with #striaghtdope
Still resting at the moment, but I just thought I’d pop in to say that I’d pay good money to see the above scenario…
P.S. to magdalene: I don’t carry a wallet, and even when I did I never carried a condom in it. So pbthbtbhtbht!
#straightdope is crushed before the verbal masturbation that is The McLaughlin Group.
I believe my Magic 8 Ball is still unchallenged.
Ha, and you thought I was dead! Well, I am!
I shall crush your puny magic 8 ball with…
**Schlöshd alcohol! **(one drink, YOUR DRUNK!)
Bailey defeats Schlöshd alcohol with an annoying horde of ** self-righteous straight-edge teenagers**. Future attackers please note that these teens have immunity to any attacks involving sex, drugs, alcohol,meat, or anything otherwise fun due to their incredible, almost super-human ability to engage in self-depriation in order to keep themselves at the center of attention in conjunction with a ** strong desire for a sense of belonging** and a generous dose of good old-fashioned arrogance. Watch out, you philistines!
self-righteous straight-edge teenagers, eh? Well… the only solution to scissors is a rock…
I bring you… the asteroid from Armageddon
arrogant or no, those kids are gonna be squished.
I crush your asteroid from Armageddon with the dubious thespianic talents of Bruce Willis.
The aforementioned alcohol could easily have been consumed by Boris Yeltsin.
Allow me to bring you all to your knees with Monica Lewinsky.
Get in line, boys.
The Monica Lewinsky offense is easily countered with a simple household utensil: put a fork in her, because her 15 minutes are over, baby!
And now everyone can bow down to Busta Rib’s mastery and supremacy in the Rochambo Arena. The crowd skips a beat, the arena is hushed, and even Scupper must give pause on his assault as I unleash…Hip-hop Haute Couture as charactized by grossly baggy pants hanging half-way down the ass, underwear proudly displayed for all, sickenly expensive athletic footwear (insert famous brand name here), baseball cap (worn slightly askew), down jacket in 80-degree weather, and accessorized with gaudy gold jewelry and the ubiquitous Motorola pager!! Yes, overkill, but like 1-week old Chinese food gone bad, you people refuse to stay down.
It is pointless to continue this battle, my worthy combatants, as you all must surely be reeling from extreme laughter at the ridiculousness of this contemporary statement of high fashion. I am ready to accept my belt and title as Rochambo Prime.
[Busta and his entourage celebrate as “Who Let the Dogs Out??!!!” blairs in the background.]
Busta, your hip-hop fashion is put to shame by 1980’s Garden Rake Hair aka The Claw and Spiral Perms.
Get ready for The Dukes of Hazzard. And don’t make me get all Oprah on your asses.
The Dukes were defeated before they ever stepped to the ring by their cousins.
Oprah, though popular and respected, is doomed by association. Geraldos’ empty tomb/vault fiasco and Springers empty airings smack of idiocy in the highest order.
As such, I thrust you into a single-wide with duel satellite hook-ups so they can watch Springer and WWF at the same time.
A ** single-wide with duel satellite hook-ups so they can watch Springer and WWF at the same time.**
I see your trailer, and I raise you one tornado.
And you don’t want to mess around with R2-D2.