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Smoking hot Black Friday deals are already hitting the net. You can buy a 50 inch flatscreen television for pennies. Get the latest smartphone for a vial of blood. We need your blood this year. It's valuable.
Xboxes and Playstations are cheap, cheap, cheap. Buy one or three in order to keep your brood placated. Give them the vapid electronic entertainment they deserve. If they're not spouting racist epithets on internet while teabagging a fallen enemy, then you've failed as a care-giver. Buy little Mickey an XBone to ensure his complete development as a person. Get him a smartphone while you're at it so that he'll never be bored. If he's not busy at all times, he might reflect on his station in life, or do some free thinking, and that would be criminal. We're raising the next generation of meat, here, people. This is a post-rational age.
Let's get all the Christmas shopping done while the deals are here. Get your wife something that she doesn't need, like maybe sexy underpants. Buy little Bobo a fish hat so he'll have something to wear when he's out dynamiting the lake. Your dog could use nutritional supplements. Gotta keep that coat nice and shiny.
Buy someone a Lexus. It'll be a November to remember. Gourmet coffee is currently on sale. Gourmet coffee is worth suplexing a stranger over, right? If a talking Elmo is worth punching a woman in the face, then gourmet coffee is certainly worth fighting for. These people are soft, you understand. They don't have what it takes to get a great deal.
You were raised to take what's yours, and you'll be damned if somebody's going to beat you out of a boxed set of animated Disney films. Your little princess deserves to watch an exaggerated female caricature with eyes as large as dinner plates and a three inch waist. She needs an ideal to aspire to as she matures.
Charcoal grills are going for twenty bucks, but that bastard got the last one. Good thing you brought a bedpost. Fucker didn't have a chance. Went down like a sack of flour.
You've achieved quite the bodycount, but at least your Christmas shopping is finished. You spent under one-hundred dollars, and you feel like a million bucks. Junior will be pleased to know that his copy of Grand Theft Auto 5 was bought with blood. Merry fucking Christmas.
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