0134b — Highway to Hellmouth (Patreon)

As we sat blinking disbelievingly into our camping oatmeal, the site-adjacent harridan whose voice traveled like an incensed duck through the cold morning air informed all with ears that the President should just "go ahead and nuke the whole Middle East, to shut them up once and for all." Unconvinced of her diplomacy bona fides, I continued to chew the gluey mass, and daydreamed of a McDonald's in which I could wash the soot from beneath my blackened fingertips.

She puffed on her breakfast cigar, cackled again, and launched into a tirade about her water bill.