It was July 4th, 1776, when our forefathers decided that new nation was to be wrought from the ideals of democracy, but it wasn't until December when the badly out gunned rebels were able to gain an upper hand, by chucking rock filled snowballs at the oppressive Redcoats.

Heathcliff and Spike (yes, that's his name) honor that tradition every winter...by shooting fucking guns at each other. Is nobody concerned that Heathcliff and a bulldog have, in their possession, rifles with bayonets on them? Obviously not: alls fair in love and snowball fighting. Spike probably has the advantage, what with his awesome pope hat/shark fin deal atop his head. Of course, this will be for naught, because Heathcliff had taken the precaution to wet Spike's powder while he slept, which means that we're gonna have one dead bulldog on our hands tomorrow.

Thug Life, representing since 1776.