T1B

The Jews of the desert are brave men and bold
And quite equipped to smell,
But the bravest by far in the ranks of the Star,
Was Shlomart Ben Yisrael.

If you wanted a dude to encourage the rude,
Or harass a foe for a spell,
Storm fort or redoubt, you had only to shout
For Shlomart Ben Yisrael.

Now the smackers were plenty and well known to fame
In the troops that were led by their roots,
And the harshest of fame was a man by the name
Of Emvee Escal, The Brute.

He could smack LTS TRN 2 and the commie-lib crew,
And plug Mrs. Vogel’s poop chute.
In fact quite the cream of the conservative team
Was Emvee Escal, The Brute.

One day this brash poster, he shouldered his holster
And toked his most potent label,
At T1B he transpired where he hit on the desired
Of Shlomart Ben Yisrael .

Young man, quoth Schlomo, has life grown so slow
That you wish to off your own self?
Vile gentile, know, you have trod on the toe
Of Shlomart Ben Yisrael .

So take your last look at trev’s golden nook
And send your regrets to the troops
For by this I imply, you are going to die,
Emvee Escal, The Brute.

Then this bold kike canuck drew his trusty trick fuck,
Singing, "Reboot, reboot, reboot!"
And with murderous intent he ferociously went
For Emvee Escal, The Brute.

They Photoshopped and thrust, they side-stepped and cussed,
Of bandwidth they used a great part;
The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes,
Say that scat was first made on the spot.

They fought all that night neath the blue board banner;
The din, it was heard from Beirut,
And huge multitudes came, so great was the fame,
Of Schlomo and Cal The Brute.

As Schlomo's long vid was mocking Cal’s kid,
In fact he was shouting, "Huzzah!"
He felt himself struck by that wily Mack truck,
Emvee Escal, The Brute.

An internet maiden her lone vigil keeps,
'Neath the light of the cold northern star,
And the name that she murmurs in vain as she weeps,
Is Chris Christie.

The Inspiration: