One time, the President called me in and told me there was a nuke coming in and it was going to kill us all if I didn't do anything. I spit my toothpick out of my mouth, grabbed him by the shoulders, tilted my head down so he could see my eyes over my shades, and said "Chill." I walked out of the office, and hopped on my Harley. I drove off, with my mutton chops blowing in the highway wind, and "Highway to Hell" playing on the radio. Alas, it was time. I saw the bomber flying over the sun, trapping me in an airplane-shaped shadow. The hatch doors opened, and out fell the explosive beast. I adjusted my leather jacket's collar, bent my knees, and jumped. I jumped up a bit too high, so I had to adjust my body so I could fall faster. I landed on the bomb, and surfed on it for a while, just because I forgetin' could. I hopped in front of it, kicked it to slow it down, did a back flip, and then I round house kicked that motherforgeter outta there. I landed on the ground and turned away from the bomb. After it reached the safe limit, it exploded. I didn't look at the explosion; I had better things to do. I walked back to my Harley, with a lit cigar in my mouth. My super fine-ass girlfriend was waiting on my bike all seductive like. I revved that hog, and we drove off.
forget yeah.
