The Great Foam War of 2024 (Patreon)

To My Beateeist of Meatiest Ralphreella, 

Minutes Pass and the Ammo draws nearly spent. We have taken to actually bending at the waist to retrieve darts that have fallen on the ground. 

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww.

The Tartar Sauce grew scarce, Uber Eats doesn't deliver Hard Tac or Dominos.

The Burrito Cannons have run quiet for what seems like hours. 

The absurdity of war has driven my commanding officer a bit... interesting.

He asked us to start referring to him as Captain Wobble Gobble the Smoked Giblets.

We found a way to ferment the Tang using a toilet, kerosene, and a hamster we gave three liters of soda to. 

For the most part things are are going... uh oh... 

Is that Gobb gobbling that I hear ????

The Peeps have made a pact with the Turkeys. 

I feared this fifteen minutes would come. ...

I would trade all that I am to be able to ride our log flume together just one more time,

Your dear sweet Cannon P. Fodder.