Pieces Of Shit Stand No Chance Against Milwaukee‘s Turbo-Turdcutting Tactical Tool

Never in my life have I wanted to be a plumber so badly. Imagine walking into a bathroom where women and children are literally crying their asses off and you come in to save the day.

“Good morning, m’lady. Where’s this convoluted corn carrier?”

::: pointing to toilet::: 

“It’s in there, mlord.”

::: puts mouth right on the toilet hole and screams:

“Anyone a you lily-livered, bow-legged varmints care to slap leather with me, in case any of you git ideas you better know who you're dealin' with. I'm Plumber Paul: the roughest, toughest, he-man stuffest hombre whos ever crossed the Rio Grande (grand river)...and I aint no namby-pamby who is scared of little butthole boa constrictor. Come out or go down! Thems the only options!” 

Plumber Paul pulls out 20 volts of turd crushing power. 

“Have it your way. Fire in the hole,” screams Paul. 

“In stinks in here, momma.” 

“I know it does, sugar. I know it does. Wear this. It’s infused with essential oils.” 

“Essential oils are pseudoscience, momma.”

“Just put it on, you piss-haired libtard.” 

The scent of lavender overwhelms the room which is a welcomed change.

“All clear, y’all.”

“Thank you, Plumber Paul,” said the mother. “Here’s some pussy before you go.”

“If you insist”

The sound of cheeks slapping filled the air while the smell of hardened and nutritionally-deficient shit shimmied down the porcelain potty at a medium pace. Reverse cowgirl, obviously.