Quote:
Originally Posted by pshrynk
Lieutenant Biggles sat behind his desk and sipped his espresso. [I]Damn! That's good! Glad we went over to Marc's and pinched his working model, leaving our busted one behind.
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You dirty, stinkin', thievin, mongrel, son of a spud-brained, qtipped, fuzz-headed, cud-spittin', jumper-wearin' dam(n)!!! I'll kill you. I'll kill all of you. I'll tear your skin off for a fedora and use your legs to prop up the drying rack I'm going to make from your ribcage, to dry out your intestines and use them as chord for a necklace to hang your shrivelled bollocks from, you stinking, grass-eating, ruminating, cursed camelid.
Oh, that espresso machine better be back soon, you unscrupulous ungulating mountain-climbing slow-cooked roast, or I'm going to go all Incan sacrifice on your scrawny vegan neck, llama-boy.
I'll count to 1.
1.
Cheers,
Double-decaf, with a twist