This is just delicious — Nates Pilosae, shilling for her Generational Theft Act, plows past a pig-ignorant mistake like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Which it wouldn’t, since all the old battleaxe’s moisture drained away in her ten facelifts. In fact, Pilosae has a knot of hide at the back of her head like a schoolgirl’s scrunchy, so the devil can hang her on a hatrack when he’s done using her.

“I don’t think we can go fast enough, uh, just uh, to, to stop that.” Spit it out, dear. And somebody put that mangled metaphor out of its misery.