We’re here live in Moscow and somehow 4,000 angry chimps have gotten loose and…my goodness they’re hauling away Putin…eating all the snacks…THE SNACKS ARE GONE. MY LORD THE SNACKS ARE GONE.

I think it’s referencing that one Star Wars where Snape steals Gandalf’s Tardis.

Madam Suspicionarson was all they could afford.

I will say that some grandmas know how to party.

Oh dang it I wrote Santa again.

He gets the jaws theme but played on the xylophone.

I’m winning insane arguments with myself in there.

Someone digging a hole in their yard.

Wait till they hear about the reverse tornadoes that build houses and straighten out all the trees.

I’m not farting with you I’m farting AT you.

Now some people are saying, “Mr. Trump, aren’t Orks a little chaotic?” Folks—we love chaos. We’ve been doing chaos better than anyone for years. But we do it our way. American Waaagh. Controlled chaos. Very organized. The best Waaagh.

Brother Peter has eaten another coop of chickens. Should we investigate?

Classic Terry

Make sweet love to thugs. This is the way, the way of police life.

It’s like saying “hit me!” on a 20. You’re gonna lose, but it’s kinda fun.

So like, we’ll like, put a bomb in like this shell, and like Fidel will see it and like, dive for it….and explode. -CIA Meeting minutes

And then the humans will have showers where they shall sing for us for free! (Evil spider laughter)

Yo let me get a dime bag of that geology.

(Shouting over club music as she’s twerking) EXCUSE- EXCUSE ME! ARE YOU THICC OR SUFFERING FROM A CONDITION?

They rollie. They pollie.