Nigee, figners twiddling like a crackwhore in need of a fix, bounced nervously at the side of the road. JMO glared at krellin through the cracked lenses of his of his gem-encrusted shades, one figner jammed up his nose while he fiddled with his ban-hammer in the other...and by ban-hammer we mean he was playing pocket-pool.
krellin reclined in his comfy chair, persuing chicks with ducks web sites in search of new methods to increase his fresh egg production, and occassionally shouted out random phrases to the sky.
"Libtard morons!..." echoed off the alley walls as krellin let loose, and Nigee went in to new convulsions, his eyes wide ewith frenzied anticipation of the coming showdown.
Nigees giggles and trips over a bottle cap, rolling through a puddle of cat piss and spilled beer before leaping to his feet. His arm lashes out towards JMO in an accusatory gesture. "Coward! Coward! Ban him, you fool!" Nigee shrieks, and then crams his twiddling fingers in his mouth to suck on them.
The sun starts to settle behind the buildings, and a long shadow falls upon out actors...
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British Intelligence Committee Transcript
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