Why are englishers like this?
>>223125583It's the pakis, indians and english are peaceful
>>223125583High T race
>>223125583Praying for the english roses rn
>>223125583ps2 rock band guitar hero algorithm
You're an English rose waiting at home. The house is calm... too calm. Something ain't right. You feel anxious, you have a feeling of impending doom. Something bad is going to happen. But you don't know what.You notice you husband ain't around. Where was he going? To the Pub? Drinking some cold ones with the lads? No, there was more... He was going to witness something... dear god...The realisation sends a shiver down your spine. You open the news on your phone, trembling. Oh no... England vs. Argentina... 1 to 2. No... nononononono! You have to get out of here! You have to escape, before...You notice a tremor in the distance. They were regular, like angry, heavy steps. Creating ripples in your tea... and they get louder. You hear a scream in the distance.>ENGELAND BLOOODEY LOST!It's your husband and he's angry! There's no time to escape! What should you do? WHAT SHOULD YOU DO?! The wall cupboard! Blockade the door! If he can't reach you, he can't hurt you! With all your might you shove the cupboard infront of the door. You hear his heavy steps going up the stairs.>WHERE'S THAT BLOODEY HAG! I GONNA BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA 'ER!You run at the far end of the corridor, away from the door, hoping that your barricade will hold stand the anger of your man. You hear him trying to open the door. The struggle to move the cupboard.>WHAT THE BLOODEY 'ELL?!
>>223127103His rage becomes stronger. You hear wood clashing with each other! Cracking! He's huffing and puffing, while screaming out of his lungs. He threatens you. He demands that you open the door.>OPEN THAT BLOODEY, FUCKIN DOOR YA STUPID CUNT! I GONNA SLAP DA 'ELL OUTTA YA! ENGELAND BLOOODEY LOOST!You sitting there what feels like hours, the cracking gets worse and worse. The cupboard and the door took a enormous beating. They look like as if a bear tried to enter the flat. You sit there, shivering, listening to the mayhem, the threads, the violence. Then suddently... silence. Has he given up? Is it over? You don't know. You don't dare to move. You can hear his now calm, yet aggressiv breathing.After what feels like an eternity, he finally broke the silence.>You shouldn't have done that. We know both, that this is our destiny.The door and the cupboard exploded into tiny pieces. Wood shrapnel are flying towards you. You cover your face with your arms, to protect yourself from the chaos. The wooden hail storm felt like a rain of bullets, flying towards your direction. Then... you saw him in the distance. The glowing, bright light of the stairwell glows behind him. His silhouette casts a long shadow on the floor.He's slowly approuching you, each step feels like the slow tick of a glock. Then he stops. The wall glock chimes. He looks at the glock. It's now 8 p.m. He slowly turns back towards you, broadly grinning.>Well will you look at that... *he cracks his knuckles* ... It's bloody beat ya wife o'clock...You know what's going to happen. You tried to prevent it, but it was no use. One sentence resonates in your head, before the inevitable. If England is beaten, so will she...So will you...
>>223127103A24 needs to fund this right now
>>223127103>>223127122>From the twisted, deranged mind of Jordan Peele>Battery
