Get your ass home with your fuckin' snacks.

No, why are you tweaking in the snack aisle, bro? Not the fucking beef jerky, you smell like fish.

Why are you watching her back and you still don't got no ass, bro? Anyways, um, get the fuck off the fucking candy, bro. Like, what the fuck? Like, that's rude. That's disgusting. I feel so bad for that candy, bro. They don't want to see that shit. That's gross. That's really gross. Like... Like, imagine being the fucking candy, bro. I would cry. Like, I would kill myself. Like, bro, it probably stinks back there. Like, please stop. Please stop.

Bro, if I can't, alright, I ain't gonna lie to y'all, if anyone's listening to this, I need to find those snacks behind her because I kind of want to sniff them to see if they smell like food.

I swear to God, bruh. You better not have just sharted on my beef jerky and my sunflower seeds. Oh my God, get your Damascus dress off too, bruh.

Oh my gosh, what is she doing?

Now, where's the shop? I need to find them sweets for me. I need to find them exact replica sweets. Because if she even slightly releases a bit of her gases onto that, I would sniff that. Until the day I die, I'll rest a bit in my grave.