Nebraska Governor Pete Deatheater Ricketts publicly announced his re-election campaign to an audience of fawning toadies. Betsy was on hand to point out to attendees that Ricketts, who uses his personal fortune to buy legislative seats and fund ballot initiatives to work around the legislature, just preserved his own tax cuts by slashing services to children, the sick, and the elderly. Fuck him, they said.
Ricketts’s retinue of fascist snowflakes responded by calling the police on Betsy Riot because the signs made them feel unsafe. One C-grade would-be Nazi began haranguing a Betsy whilst he chomped on his celebratory cake, which was almost certainly baked from an off-brand mix by one of the sister wives inside and more likely than not had excessive, cloying frosting. When Betsy said, “Go choke on your cake,” the poor thing wailed out that Betsy had issued him a death threat. Lincoln Police were unmoved.
Later, an albino chode exited the building with his kids, and paused to tell the Betsies that he did not approve of them and held up his middle finger in their general direction. A Betsy told him to go fuck himself, and the fragile lad ran home to Twitter, where he claimed that Betsy had verbally attacked his children. A local radio personality–we use the term “personality” loosely–who had also once had his feewings hurt by Betsy Riot invited the victim on his show, where the two puddles commiserated about how things have just truly gone to hell when you can’t hold a nice sausage wank for a predatory fascist anymore without mean ladies fucking up your day.
