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Indian: We need to have Gun Control. Let us just smoke the peace pipe and throw away your long gun.
Old Timer: I knew you were a liberal the minute I laid my eyes on you. You now have 2 choices. A. Take that pipe and shove it where the son don’t sign and blow smoke up your own ass. B. I will take me here long gun and stick it where your sun don’t shine and fire.
Si vis pacem, para bellum.
Trade my culture for your firewater?
“Too old to continue the fight, the men sat in the chairs their grandsons had provided, staring at each other for three years……”
“I can trim that beard for you with this if you no wanna keep burning it with that guns powder flash”
“Wait, your hold-over at 300 paces is HOW much?!”
“It’s just a big f…ing headache,” says the old man.
As the medicine man sits, he offers, “try some of this. Grows everywhere. No worries after.”
“What kind of whacky-tobacky you put in that damn thang?!”
“Yeah, I’m not voting for Elizabeth Warren, either.”
+1
LAMO!
Bingo!
Peace. If not peace, victory.
Showing off his Davidoff pipe and Brooks Brothers suit, Chief Baccarat negotiates for permission to open a casino on Farmer Brown’s land.
Hmm Whitey. You smokum this Shroom pipe. You no care bout guns, no care bout Liberty.
“and one time, at band camp, I stuck a peace pipe in my…”
you go ahead and bury the hatchet if you want to. i’ll be hanging onto the rifle in case you dig it up.
“White man, I not even smoked this pipe yet, and I say you have nice purse.”
“Go ahead, call my powder satchell a purse one more time…”
Son, Dayglo orange ain’t tacticool and the 5th Alabama would laugh you out of the State, never mind the regiment …
“Yeah, it’s for my… uhhh.. glaucoma.”
or
“Peace pipe?! Get offa my lawn, ya hippie!”
Dan’l and Mingo today, kickin’ back and diggin’ on life.
Another pithy firearm review by Jeff Quinn of Gunblast.com.
Either give me my father’s scalp back or give me yours, Chief Running Bongwater.
“Just a friendly warning. Our blankets are far deadlier than our boomsticks.”
You got your version of peace, and I got mine
Piece. Pipe.
No…you can’t convert my rifle into a peace pipe.
… and I’m telling you, the designated hitter rule is the worst thing to happen to baseball.
+1
“You think YOU were here first? Sure, I may smoke a pipe, but nothing I puff can make me that dumb.”
“I… have a beard.”
No, I will not trade you my gun for your pipe.
I didn’t know the circus was in town! Musta gotten them clothes offin a dead Chinee.
“I’ll give you a bag of beads and shiny things for your land.”
“Sigh. Sold…”
“Ever tell you about my great-grandpappy? Name of Lewis Wetzel – your folks called him Death Wind. He never smoked no peace pipe.”
Indian:
Since you have been such wonderful guests, please, allow me to introduce your peoples to tobacco.
Paper covers rock, rock breaks scissors, gun shoots pipe…..
We smoke’em peace pipe!! Then we go get’um stuff for the munchies!!! Then we sit and watch TV; whatever that is!!!!