Balls Out

The Bearded Beavers

We Are Russia

EĢ¶sĢ¶tĢ¶rĢ¶oĢ¶gĢ¶eĢ¶nĢ¶

You are The Thing to my Hulk.

The Hulk to my Thing.

A jellyfish stuck in a meat suit.

Double-Or-Nothing. Access to every card in the game for that particular mode, once per season. Wager all gold, double it or lose it all.

Pop Pop, starring Magnitude

Buttery Explosion: The Redenbacher Affair

The Touch of Butter

Butter My Corn

Act III

Put It In My Mouth

50 Shades of Butter

I would ask them to pick one other human to abduct to kick-start the human race on a new world. I would fly them to a new Eden, and allow them to start over, declaring myself their god. I would cycle in and out of cryo sleep for thousands of years, leaving an AI to give them instructions in my stead. I would guide their civilization.

And then flood that motherfucker.

Your girlfriend likes it.

That's how I liked your uncle in to my van.

I crossdress on weekends. I was your last lap dance.

Eat shit.

Jettisoned from the airlock of my alien overlord for misbehavior.

Damned right I will. I will Nancy Drew all up in that shit If I have even an inkling that little ass got back in to my magazine collection.

Father of None

Incel Takeover

Born of Privilege

The Child Support Group