Hands off the merchandise

So, comrade. Here we are, disco time, enjoying ourselves. Let’s have party.

Oh no, wait, hold on just a minute …

No, no, no, do NOT rub the black man’s belly!

Yeah listen, you’re my friend and I love you, but let’s be honest. That’s pretty fucking offside. Why would you do that? Come on, who does that?

I mean, yeah I’m pretty damn comfy with my success curve, but how do you know that I won’t punch you in the fucking face?

Do not rub it. Don’t poke it, prod it, or punch the damn thing. Uri kurova shumba nembama.

I understand that you can’t resist the sexiness (teehee) but please, comrade, control thyself. The belly belongs to a certain Mouse, and that’s. Not. You.

Show some decorum, please.

For fuck’s sakes.