"If it wasn't for bad luck,
I wouldn't have no luck at all."
The Vice President happens upon a sour note.
Now and then. Gee DUHbya asks,
"What's the matter, *****?"
"Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit;
Tu-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot."
DC repeats, over and over and over again,
for the next twenty-seven minutes.
Gee DUHbya smacks ***** with his own smarmy
underpants, elastic band snapping forthwith endlessly.
.
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