What the bloody hell is happening here?

Believe it or not, in these suburban outskirts of Boston, a family of Trump supporters and rustic folk hath taken up residence. Moreover, they have chosen the high school's driveway situated behind my dwelling as the ideal locale for their two young lads to heedlessly navigate their motor bikes. On this very day, I found myself outdoors indulging in a cigarette, and these two youths descended the gentle incline behind my home, mere feet away from where I was standing, seemingly intent on demonstrating their skills before me. Without a second thought, I raised my voice to them: "Gentlemen, be careful! Be careful!” They gazed upon me with vacant countenances, as if never before having received admonishment in their young lives (which may very well be the case). Following this, I loudly urged them to depart, saying and with an almost demonic gleam in my eyes, "go, go!" And indeed, they did depart without a word. Never did I explicitly forbid them from riding their scooters - though such a notion was implied - but only sought to instill in them the importance of circumspection and an end to their ostentatious displays. I derive some satisfaction from the notion that perchance, I succeeded in instilling a modicum of fear in these young scamps, and their rustic father can disregard my sentiments. Yes, good people, even here in Massachusetts, we find ourselves in the company of the unsophisticated. To them, I say, may they be cast aside, for they are the scourge of society.

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