Been battling mites for about a year now. Finally got rid of them using acephate as a systemic. The little fotted fucks just giggled at the first application. I doubled the dose planning on tossing the plants anyways, just so they would all choke to death on acephate.
No, I'm about to show you where the last battle occurred. I stand victorious, sweat and blood drip ominously from my torn macho man randy savage bandana, blood stained tattered shirt carelessly yet forcefully snapping in the smoke filled air as the camera pans away revealing a horde of dead mites amidst a barren desolate smoldering landscape of carnage.
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Mites are dead, but at what cost? I only pray the ganja gods are satisfied with this sacrifice. Rip godfather bomb. I have commisioned a memorial to be constructed in the inner sanctuary.
My brother "after you won, I think you forgot the 2 bald eagles draping an American flag on your shoulders while the top gun theme plays softly"