Ain't no cracka-*** Russian gone touch MY **** growled Plebeia as she filed her rhinestone-studded fake fingernails to a deadly edge. She rolled her enormous seething mass to the edge of the sofa and glared, like a feral heifer, at the massive TV screen from which Vladimir P. beamed forth like an avatar of Orthodoxy.
Y'all betta shut yo' punk-*** mouth, ***** howled Plebeia.
All y'all Russian girls so **** UGLY Ima hafta *** me some shades so don't hafta SEE dat nasty ****.
Plebeia then gathered her senatorial notes and prepared to present the accusations at the Russian collusion hearings.