Sep 7, 2006
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Just Cause
Your mullet is muy thick, senor. And it streams gloriously in the wind as you throw yourself out the plane and plummet toward an island hundreds of miles below, where whores live in volcanoes, and roaming militias of bloodthirsty madmen slaughter each other for land and power.
The ground approaches rapidly, and you can see a highway winding through the wilderness, so you pull the cord and the parachute flares out. You float down into oncoming traffic, land on the roof of a car, then leap ...
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