Here are the beauties before the action gets hot:
And here, during.
And again, during (man with fag is master butcher/griller of the operation).
And again, about to come off…
(They were consumed too quickly for any presentation shots. But then again, life is a series of frustrations, in’nit?)
Nobody likes you and nobody wants your stupid chops, anyway.
I like me. My wife likes me.
JOB
She just likes you for your sweet, sweet chops.
Marie?
The man with the fag looks like some don’t-tread-on-me type.
Time for an audit.
And he has a barn. Sweep his field! Run some tests. He may be illegally and/or unknowingly growing Monsanto crops. One way or another, we’ll get the likes of him.
Corporations are persons, but only Soylent Green is people.
Tobacco and freshly killed, freshly grilled pig.
Oh, the good life.
Oops, it’s actually lamb chops – but same diff in spirit, anyway…
JOB
Indeed.
Next week’s special: Rocky Mountain Oysters.
Jonathan,
If you only knew…
JOB
Never mind the bollocks, here’s the Korrektiv.
I don’t have anything to add, but let the record show that I was here.
So moved.