potato2.txt

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little potato?
I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Zandronum Mashers, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Ireland, and I have over 300 confirmed deep-fries.
I am trained in Russet warfare and I'm the top frier in the entire Zandronum potato forces.  You are nothing to me but just another batch of fries.
I will mash you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words.
You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet?  Think again, you brown-skinned shit.
As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across Zandronum and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the oil, maggot.
The oil that fries you and wipes out any bit of health your pathetic excuse of a life had. You're going to McDonald's, kid.
I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can mash you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands.
Not only am I extensively trained in bare oil combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of McDonald's, and I will use it to its full extent to fry your miserable ass and ship it to every fast food joint on the fucking continent.
If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have hidden your brown ass.
But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot.
I will shit oil all over you and you will drown in it.
You're fucking fried, kiddo.