“You’re never gonna take me alive, AFFotD fuckers!”
Our undercover investigative journalist, [REDACTED] has been through a lot. We forced him to eat at a Vegan restaurant, which is the very reason why we can’t in good conscience list his name here, then after a quick apology party we got him to sign over, essentially, his soul. We made him write about cricket, and about opera, and finally, he snapped.
We didn’t hear a word from him for a week, until our specially calibrated American hunting dogs found an unusually large amount of America around the Chicagoland area. Sure enough, that’s where [REDACTED] had been hiding out. After we sent in the hounds (ha ha, don’t worry, they weren’t really hounds. They were more of a wolves/huskie hybrid) we were able to bring in [REDACTED] and get his story behind his one week spent, as he put it, “Trying to get my America back on, you cocksuckers.”
Here is his tale.