Why the fuck are you adopting a damn cow? Did you hit your excessively moronic head on Cesare's litter box today, or what? You're lucky that you're all the way over in America, kissing up to your little girlfriend in your entire dick-less glory, or I would've taken Bianca and shoved it up your ass until your prostate exploded.

I mean, che diavolo stai facendo? This is ridiculous—abso-fucking-lutely shittastic. I thought that you were dumb, but it seemed as if God formed you out of manure than dirt, you animal fetishist! I can't believe Desmond puts up with your crap, especially after you went for that giant komodo dragon that nearly tore off Uncle Mario's spleen. And you have the audacity to care for a dairy cow? Aye, maron!

You need to take that piece of junk back to that hillbilly—and, no, I don't give two squats about him having the name "Robert de Sable"; when Italians do business, they don't shake hands with a bald man scratching their balls with a giant army behind him. And secondly, a cow is the shittiest pet in the Universe: Why couldn't you get a wombat, a mahi-mahi fish, or a bigass pelican? You just had to go for a happy Californian cow, or whatever the fuck those things are called. Shaun is going to go apeshit when he finds out about this suicidal attempt.





P.I.S.S. Fottiti, and buy your own damn condoms