You came to our show ready to have some fun. You looked like a boxer in a rented tux; your date was dressed to the nines in a black dress with silver sparkles. You were the last to leave the dining room, after filling out our fun questionnaire, signing Al Capone as your name. You were both pretty drunk at the end, slurring your goodbyes. We checked out what you wrote: “The Jew-hating fag did it. The girl was a Jew.” Our Jewish cast members entertained and joked with you all night. I hope all that ugliness inside you eats you alive.
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