IM lOGGED ON FREM MEEEuUGHHHRURRRSSSS
KEUHAGEN'S DED AND MEEEEELLLIIIIIINA IS MAKINK EKS FEUR MY BREAKFAST.
AAAUguuuguguhghghgh
dddddddddddddddddaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiggggggggghhhhhhhh iiiiiiiiittttttttssssssss Ffffrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiidaaaay!
Co..Cou...Could you possibly rewind and come again?
Ooo, you're such a tease!!
Anytime you want to fill my puff pastry with your de-stoned cherries is fine with me, you big Martian brute.
Are you gonna do anything about this, Quaid?? It seems you are all mouth and no action.... instead of all gagging mouth-action. My loading bay is open and waiting for your shuttle to burn up on re-entry.
Come and crisp up the pastry on my cheese flan.
For fuck's sake, Quaid... I've been sitting here with my oven gloves on basting my turkey giblets for the last hour and a half...
When are you gonna show up and glaze my beef wellington with your milky marinade?!!
BBBEEEEEENNNNNEEEEETTTTTTTTTTTTTT
YOU ICEHOLE, IVE BEEN STANDINK WEIGHTIN FEUR YEU FAW HEURS NOW!
PEEPLE ARR LAFFINK AT MY ASSLESS CHEPS AND HEARODS IS DEFINITLEY NOT QUIET AND OUT OEUF THE WEEIGH
IM GOING TO KILL YEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
AAAUguuuguguhghghgh
Excuses, Quaid - excuses. I've always been better than you, Quaid - you could never get your pavlova to rise like mine and my vinegraitte has singed eyebrows the world over.
Next time I see you there will be no mercy - baking soda in the eyes, you will be lasooed with calamari and then I'll make sure that my roasted vegetables are just moist enough to smear over your dirty oven chips as our kievs meet in filthy, X-rated union.