Don't cross the Hildebeast.
She's tan. She's fit. She's rested.
And after six months of seeing the asstards running for the nomination this time out, she's got the inside track on winning when Leftard voters finally get to the point of prayer:
"Please, God, anyone but that Clowncarnucopia of Fruitcakes and losers!"
And if Dopey Joe doesn't catch a clue after the pin in the eye, wait until she uses a nail gun on his crotch.