There is a little Mexican girl in my trunk.
Her name is Dora and she hangs out with a monkey named after footwear.
On Monday I plan to let her out. Catch is, is that afterwards I am going to hang her from the ceiling and let a half-dozen sugar-shocked midgets beat her with a large piece of dowelling until her innards spill out.
Children's birthdays are such fun.
P.S. before those of you that need it spelled out go running to the police, I am referring to a pinata, dumbass.
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