Hey, Snake Tee-Shirt. Long time no see.
“How’sss it hanging?”
Can’t complain. You?
Aw, buddy. What’s the matter?
“Worried about the United Ssstatesss.”
We all are.
“I’m a patriot. You know I wasss in the Marine Corpsss.”
You don’t pronounce the S in that word, let alone pronounce it like that.
“You don’t ressspect veteransss.”
Yes, I do. And you are not a veteran.
“I ssserved my country, boy! Not like sssome pussssssiesss I could mention.”
You did not.
“I wasss at Khe Sssan.”
NO, YOU WERE NOT.
“Sssometimesss, I’m ssstill there. My buddiesss died in my handsss!”
You don’t have hands.
You don’t even have sleeves. You were not a Marine.
“Thisss isss my rifle, thisss isss my gun.”
YOU DON’T HAVE HANDS.
“Audie Murphy didn’t have handsss. They let him be a Marine.”
First of all, he was in the Army. Second of all, he lost his hands in combat. He didn’t show up at the draft office and open the door with his foot. Third of all, you are a tee-shirt.
Can’t be racist against shirts. Shirt is not a race.
“I even remember the sssongsss we would sssing when we marched.”
You can’t march. You slither.
“I DON’T KNOW, BUT IT’S BEEN SSSAID–”
“MARIE ANTOINETTE GIVESSS REAL GOOD HEAD!”
I regret talking to you.