Install Steam
sign in
|
language
简体中文 (Simplified Chinese)
繁體中文 (Traditional Chinese)
日本語 (Japanese)
한국어 (Korean)
ไทย (Thai)
Български (Bulgarian)
Čeština (Czech)
Dansk (Danish)
Deutsch (German)
Español - España (Spanish - Spain)
Español - Latinoamérica (Spanish - Latin America)
Ελληνικά (Greek)
Français (French)
Italiano (Italian)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
Magyar (Hungarian)
Nederlands (Dutch)
Norsk (Norwegian)
Polski (Polish)
Português (Portuguese - Portugal)
Português - Brasil (Portuguese - Brazil)
Română (Romanian)
Русский (Russian)
Suomi (Finnish)
Svenska (Swedish)
Türkçe (Turkish)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
Українська (Ukrainian)
Report a translation problem

IF YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY OR “NOT A BIG DEAL” THEN YOU, SIR, ARE A CARD-CARRYIN GRASS CLIBBIN LIBRUL WHO PROBABLY TYPES IN LOWERCASE AND ORDERS BONLESS WINGS. PUT SOME RESPECT ON THE ROAD. BAG YER CLIBBINS, BURN YER CLIBBINS, OR EAT YER CLIBBINS LIKE THE REST OF US RESPONSIBLE AMERICANS.
HOG CRANKERS STAND TALL. GRASS CLIBBERS FALL. BARB FOREVER.