“He’s in there! He’s in there! Squawk! Tweet tweet!”
Pleeze allou mee to intraduze mieselv, my naame iz muddd… <thunk>
I’ll heff turkey mit all the trrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrimmings.
Ah! Le belle femme skunk fatale!
I’m not crazy; I just don’t give a darn!
“Would ya mind closing the door, Son? It’s a mite drafty in here?”
Duhhhhhhhh, I don’t want any tea, it gives me a headache. I’ll take CAWFEE!
I’m not a bunny rabbit.
HHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPP! This cry for help has been brought to you by the Eagle Hand Laundry.
Shh. Be vewy vewy quiet. I’m hunting wabbits.
Heh heh heh heh heh.
He must go back to the woods. To the forest primeval. To Flatbush.
I’m bringing home a baby bumblebee.
Delays, delays…
My, I’ll bet you monsters lead interesting lives
B-b-b-b-big deal.
Yoiks, and away!
I don’t remember that, Asimovian.
That may be the saddest thing I’ve heard today.
Thank you.
I try and spread joy as I go through life.
Yoiks, and away!
Abracapocus!