McMahon: WWF.
Schlitz and Forbes: A ten mines drop into a lager vat, run by the scurrilous Carnegie Knights of England, run by a Chaucer Van Zant no less. The common cat, a feline to be murdered in deed, not in name, and if prior to latter, your loss, no wrestling money for you. The best in training of athletes, to run entire industrial houses, and the maddening loss of life, of the common assassin; binding all other folks, as a sick, sinister urge.
Charlebois: Harpoon.
Torquemada and Troit: Stockbridge Amherst, the first state university in the country. You had state colleges, but not state universities, for the highways, microbreweries, and counter espionage programs. Beer as a hippie's connection with hard industry, fifty states of state troopers, military soldiers to return, and history as a palpable major, not just political science, the new structure. The deftness and swiftness to move through teachers and politicians, cops and spies; a dashing killer.
York: Harvard.
Edward the Black Prince and Bloody Mary: Madness, at walking through a college campus in an inner city, and we only think of Harvard University, of Suffolk County, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Anywhere in Eastern Massachusetts, is Boston, but not like a ripoff burger joint, that dirty cops don't like, unless you live nearby and you eat there, corrupt, or you're an MI-6, working for a President, because you're willing to buy a fourteen dollar hot dog, twice a day, and then get delivery.
Peppers: Penguin Classics.
Louis XIV and Martel: A line of midgets, the Dauphin; a rare book at any price, and that's enough, Sir. The blade, a katana, is this book, and it could be any book, but this was printed out of love, from a little man that can't but be ugly. Don't you dare write in this book, and don't take it as an heirloom; it is revenge, education, and it is not from us, or any who claim it. All you need is your heart, and solitude. These books are power, Grimoires, and they sting and hurt and make you cry, like anyone looking at a face, and wondering why.
Kim: Stouffers.
Montezuma and Paris: The French-Hispanic, the original inhabitants of the Yucatan. Any restaurant food you want, and anywhere. Something to share with the family, out of any city on the world. The same recipe you get in a ritzy restaurant, for the prodigal son, as the one you heat up in the microwave. All held in separate family divisions, the same family, but different corporations, through staples made famous by ancient inventors, always on cargo and shipping. The secret network of the poor, the food and letters courier, a street gang.
Bruce: Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer.
Samson and U'Niall: The purest line of the Arabs and Celts, together, duplicated many times but not this successful. Any movie, can sell a bag of marijuana, but you better be personally married or present, to get the King, President, or Premier stoned on marijuana, after an execution. Specialist at John Barleycorn, a beheaded corpse who pissed on the hands of the Lord, the child of the King and Queen.
Musk: Prudential Life.
Markham and Ali: The modern espionage man, steals, cheats, robs, lies, and could be construed to kill, but that's better left for the assassins. Insurance, is black money, blood money, and wet money; wet works, a special bank account, from real estate, of sports league, through speculation out of religion; gambling, and at high benefit and tow, to of course ignore and remove any such stipulation or specification from any type of bank, loan, or syndicate.
Bin Laden: French External Security.
Grifo and Ghandhi: Every world leader you could ever imagine, controlled, through corrections officers and bounty hunters, all out of the French Presidency. Any thug or troll or asshole, of low repute but frustrated power, and meek decisions, could be taken to rig an election. After all, if you're afraid of prison, your father was a bitch. You're putting everyone around you in prison anyhow, and nobody can see but someone with a pet dog. You like pet dogs, don't you, Mister President?