those damn brits with their taxes and insults.
"yes, we can't even get the good tea."
(they talked in their everyday brit accents. these were the days before the american revolution)
that soldier over there took a likein' to lady mirabella.
"bloody rascal! wish i could get him alone without that gun and bayonet. i'd pull out his damn rib and show it to him as i cracked his knees"
who's he protecting us from anyway? who are the redcoats protecting us from? hmmm, brother, i don't know.
"heard yesterday one of the bastards killed my native buddy. seen him last during wintertime, but didn't figure it would be the last time we danced around the fire and painted our faces."
what happened?
"don't really know. there's some confusion over the paperwork."
always the paperwork.
"well anyway, you coming to that meeting tonight?"
well uh hmm, the minutemen gonna have to meet without me. i ain't big on meetings, but let me know what happens. i'm in. i can't stand those dudes.
