RPM's Verbal Smackdown Of The Meatsack.

Crack open one for me...its good to tell her the truth once in a while...

It's good that your kids knew the truth about their mom. My mother was of the mindset of never being wrong, just like her mother, who had three kids (my mother was the oldest) by three different men. Though I never argued with her, she knew how my siblings and I felt about our father, and we never let her forget how much we didn't appreciate how she mistreated him for simply being what he was supposed to be: The head of the house. To the best of my knowledge she rarely gets visits from any of us, but I visit my father's grave on the regular.

That wasn't an HMT but was so absolutely savage it's earned itself a scorecard. So let's get to it, shall we?!

Location: This was on a camping trip and away from the prying eyes of society so I might have deducted points but because it was done to the meatsack in front of her own children with the gloves completely off, I'm giving it a 10.

Method of execution: Calling out her deteriorating body by body part, reminding her it's only going further downhill from here, then pulling all the skeletons out of her closet and rattling those mofos in her face (in front of her own children!) is already some real "First the front of the hand, now the back of the hand. Again the front of the hand... Oh, and here's the back of the hand again." pimp-teaching-his-hoe-not-to-misbehave shit but then pulling out MORE skeletons when she's already reeling? *chef's kiss x 2* That goes above the call of duty. Giving this a 25 because the meatsack will never see that age again or have the same opportunities she threw away.

Tatemae (建前): Zero. No fucks were given.

Brutality factor: Metaphorically, RPM was hitting the meatsack like the original Nintendo Punch-Out's Super Macho Man hits Little Mac during his super spin punch. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Into a forced, crying retreat into a fucking _TENT_ where the salt of her tears joined the salt of the earth. 10 points for the 10-count.

So RPM scores a grand total of 45. That's a good number because this man deserves a six-pack of Colt 45 and a hero's welcome home from the battlefield for his selfless service against thots and their bullshit, wherever he might find them.

Outstanding job, sir!

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Damn, she begged for it, barging into the conversation with your son, trying to shame you in front of your son. Congrats. Now she knows on a scale of 1 to 10, she rates a ZERO with you!