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Anonymous
2016-06-20 05:11:04 Post No. 1310165
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Anonymous
2016-06-20 05:11:04
Post No. 1310165
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Imagine being Rommel in that battle and having to be all like "damn, Italy, you fuchin' fine, all sexy with your tight uniforms and horrific ww1 weapons. I would totally have command you, both me as a military officer and the real me." when all he really wants to do is lead his platoon through Africa. Like seriously imagine having to be Rommel and not only sit in that panzerl while Italy flaunts her disgusting tanks in front of you, the favorable african sun barely concealing her rivet marks and leathery armor, and just sit there, battle after battle, hour after hour, while she perfected that engagement. Not only having to tolerate her monstrous fucking visage but her haughty attitude as everyone on set tells her she's STILL GOT IT and DAMN, ITALY FIGHTS LIKE *THAT*?? because they're not the ones who have to sit there and watch her mannish fucking Luigi face contort into types of pasta you didn't even know existed before that day. You've been fucking nothing but a healthy diet of blondes and Ubermensch and later alleged war crime victims for your ENTIRE CAREER coming straight out of the boonies in Southern Germany. You've never even seen anything this fucking disgusting before, and now you swear you can taste the pizza sauce that's breaking out on her dimpled stomach as she sucks it in to writhe it suggestively at you, smugly assured that you are enjoying the opportunity to get paid to sit there and revel in her "Romanesque(for that is what she calls herself)" beauty, the beauty she worked so hard for with Mussolini in the previous months. And then the Fuhrer calls for another battle, and you know you could kill every single soldier in this force before the Reich could put you down, but you sit there and endure, because you're fucking Rommel. You're not going to lose your future military career over this. Just bear it. Hide your face and bear it.