Last week, ze Team de Freak decided that North Carolina's scorching fire-air just wasn't hot enough, so they gathered together some friends & jumped in the boxtruck after carefully destroying it's AC unit. "I hear that the hottest of all hots can be found in a hot & magical place called Hotlanta!" said one member of the Freakerteam, who was both looking & feeling particularly hot that day.
The purveyors of freedom got distracted by a culturally insensitive theme park about a cartoon Mexican named Pedro. There were gorillas in men's briefs, a brontosaurus wearing a sombrero, and pictured below is a small bearded man atop of a blue jackalope singing Celine Dion. (I would like to take a moment & clarify, for the sake of legality, that NO, the Freakerteam had NOT eaten a barrel of acid that day.)
Upon the realization that "The Silver Slipper" was not in fact a strip club, the Freakerteam suddenly awoke from Pedro's sultry (HOT.) hypnosis & raised their fists of justice. Onwards to Hotlanta.
The team was suddenly struck by a wave of toothless nostalgia before reaching their hot hot destination. They had a boxtruck slumberjam in Georrrrhhhhgia.
There was a diner located conveniently inside of the truckstop. The Freakerteam not only wallowed in that glory, but also serenaded each other with George Michael's "Careless Whisper" at approximately way-too-early-in-the-morning.
Ah, yes, right at home. Once again, the team realized that white bread & coffee water had been distracting them from their sauna city!
Will the Freakerteam ever make it to their hot destination that would be very hot in Hotlanta?! Stay tuned, young grasshopper...