|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Excuse me, son. My horse ran loose and I need a new one. Can you point me toward the nearest ranch? | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| Watch' you talkin' bout foo? This is the *SPACEFUTURE* How about an opium-enriched violence-infused crackcicle? To you it would be like eating a popcicle mixed with psychotropic drugs at a soccer riot | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Excuse me, my good man. My horse ran loose, and I need a new one. Can you point me toward the nearest ranch? | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| We HyperAmish do not approve of your old-fashioned ways. Begin consuming exorbitant quantities of electricity and buy a gasoline-powered space ship or I'll have to physically assault you. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Excuse me..... Eh, Screw This. | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| Hang on a sec, boy... You ever seen Deliverance? | |
| | |
|
|
|
