Troubadours, XI

Fuck you, at least I'm getting one up relatively on time this week. I love having a Thursday night game, but three days between games is brutal for this. Regardless, this one goes out to the West Indian Wendigos, the fightin'est bunch of savages to ever be conquered by a team that wishes it was an imperial power. It's sung to the Louvin Brothers' bizarre "Great Atomic Power." Troubadours fucking rule and, though you already know this, the rest of you fucking suck bags of cocks.

Do you fear your master team
That they call the Troubadours
Will you cower like a feeb
Will your face just hit the floor?

The brutality of destruction
I will rain upon your lands
Will dwarf your execution
And the blood upon my hands

Are you ready
For those Lonestar Troubadours
Can you stand to see your people turned to slaves?
Your sticks and stones are cute
But I'll fuck you 'til you're mute
Are you ready for the Lonestar Troubadours?

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