Enslaved in the pig sty barracks of a Redneck Warlord, the Feminist Leader in center square cradles herself in fetal position, surrounded by the moans and stench of her sister Feminists, as she spend the long agonizing hours contemplating the utter and co
Enslaved Rebels were shocked to discover that there was no Feminist Sisterhood, and the Master's wife were even harsher on the feminazi tramps, jealous of them as homewreckers
