I haven't been here for like two years, so here's a rap battle between two British figures best known for closing pits in the 1980's: Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and Berk from The Trap Door.
THATCHER: Here comes the Iron Lady that the British people chose,
And the Trap Door and your gob are two more pits that should close,
Why do you always play in that gunge, it can't be healthy,
You're a fat twat with a pea-brain, no wonder you aren't wealthy,
I served three terms in office, what great things have you done?
Aside from screwing up and being nagged by a bone?
I played an Amnesia mod better than your shitty show,
I think I hear your master calling, I think you better go.
BERK: Oh, Margaret Thatcher is so shitty,
She's the girl hated by me and Boni,
You're the one who should be down the Trap Door,
It's got better foods than your daddy's grocery stores,
You were a bitch and a witch, to Britain you were brutal,
Boni here was more deserving of a state funeral,
I may be scared of Him Upstairs, but you make him look a boy scout,
Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, Out, Out, Out!
THATCHER: Your rhymes make me sick, you plump blue prick,
I ought to send Ronnie over to give you a kick,
We'll be beating you like you were Edward Heath,
You may battle monsters but you sure don't have any teeth,
I have a Presidential Medal, that I'll shove down your throat,
Then I'll knock down your castle and plonk you down in the moat,
My pure British disses are more than you can bear,
You're utterly worthless, you won't be getting any shares.
BERK: It's bonking time, 'cause I look at you and grimace,
I know what your terms were like, I mean, I watched Spitting Image,
Just watch as I demolish the House of Lords,
While you blab and sound like a cat on a blackboard,
Your Liberal ass can't defeat my Claymation,
I'll blow up your conference and cause your devastation,
You may be a minister but to me you will kneel,
Then I'll grab you and serve you as Him Upstairs' next meal!