A stinky little Molk brat is running through the fucking store out of control! When the little stain rounds the corner where you are heading for your Kurd crips you thrust the shopping cart into his chest with a loud "Pang!". the kid is down crying holding a swollen head toe. It's well known they don't have feelings there, you should cut it off to show him good. But no time. "Make the Alarm great again!", You roar at the mother as you head from the check out lane. The oily bitch should have ran when she saw the head hat. We are done with her kind you think as you throw a pack of shotgun shells from the impulse items rack in the lane. Yep good times are just around the corner.