Those Clog Dancing Boys May As Well Call Themselves Women

So I'm on my break and decide to go outside the complex to get some fresh air. I sit down outside the back of the complex convention center, when all of a sudden I hear this clippin' and a-cloppin' coming from the backstage area. Turns out Freeman has hired some children's clog dancing group to perform at the Benefit for the French, which is some lame three day event supposed to raise money to ween the French from their fascination with Jerry Lewis. What the hell??!!!

Freeman knows I am not responsible for any violence that occurs in a clog related incident. But that old bastard still books an entire group of clog clad kids. And worst of all, they're all boys!! I can't understand why any parent would let their son wear clogs, let alone dance in them.

So I started taunting them and throwing rocks at their wooden shoes. What else could I do? Someone's got to teach those little namby pambys a lesson. Then as one of the little idiots was running away screaming, he tripped and cut open his chin.

Oh boo hoo, ya little velvety clog lad, why don't you just cry away what little shred of masculinity you have left. You may as well call yourself Alice after this, you little clog wearing freak.