Send your kids to school.
Good luck with that...
I know perfectly well where I'd go if I had a hankerin to fuck a young, sweet hottie. Heck, they lock them into the pen. I can pick whatever one I want, and then the fun begins...
The plot sickens.
Note the predominance of multi-vowel surnames in the story. Immigrants? Ya think? Bringing their special values to America?
Oh, never mind, it's already kneeling behind you there, with its dick up your ass.
Welcome to America. Make yourselves at home. Put your feet up, stay awhile...
Why not waterboard this little motherfucker?
'Course, anybody named 'Cock' just deserves a good shootin. I would just love to know what kind of gun he used to blow the pinata open.
And what the fuck is up with all the foreign surnames in that school? Russkies, gooks, jeez louise, yeah, can I please send my kids to Beslan High School?
We can do this all day, people.
You scare the piss out of one of my kids, and you have a date with some quality time, involving rusty pliers, and a propane torch. Your eyes will beg me to kill you, but sorry, I'm not done yet.
And neither are you.
FUCK these people! Who died, and made them God? Well, I will become the god of your new circle of hell. Just try to imagine the sound a molar makes, crushed in your mouth by my yard-sale pliers. Your mouth propped open by two snapped off straight razor blades.
I will squirt Liquid Heet up onto the bloody swinging nerve in your former molar socket, and tear off your eyelids with my own fingers so you can see my smile.
You do NOT want to fuck with me, or mine, asshole. I have a taste for it, and nothing you have imagined can prepare you for how thin I will slice your soul, and feed it back to you.