Tell ya what I’d do. I’d be like “Yo, Ukraine, let’s finish this shit.” And Ukraine would be all like, “Oh yeah? Why don’t you finish deez nutz?!” I’d probably laugh a little bit at that, but I wouldn’t let Ukraine see me. Then I’d go “Nah man, for real. Let’s square up at Chuck E. Cheese.”

Ukraine probably thinks we’re in for a parking lot fight, or some shit like that, but nope. I’d challenge Ukraine to a fucking winner-takes-all ski ball match. And you know what? Ukraine would goddamn accept.

I’d intentionally be a little bit late, so Ukraine would be all hanging out in the parking lot and shit, getting hyped up and rowdy. Then, I’d roll up in that glorious janky-ass bitch with the curved up deck.

I know what’s up. Ukraine knows what’s up. We do this thing.

It’s goddamn savage. I’m not just hitting the middle hole, no… I’m fucking sinking shots into those little corner holes that are worth, like, 10,000 points a goddamn piece.

It’s merciless. Unrelenting. Ukraine loses epically, and collect their casualties as they slink into the darkness on the edge of the parking lot.

Fuck me, though, because I gotta deal with this goddamn aircraft carrier in a Chuck E. Cheese situation now.

So, anyway, that’s how I’d do it.