…In Absentia (XIII) ‘We need a chicken for the ritual’…

Where’s the beef,
It expires in four hours.

Flippin’ hail,
When it rains, April showers.

Cite your sauce,
1% doesn’t make it alcoholic.

Where do you get off!?
And do you mind if I come, too…

The Cheque’s just a residual.
We’ll need a chicken for the ritual.

Lose a finger,
Deuces are wild.

Nuisance complaint.
Already filed.


“Argh! It’s fierce-mild!” – Dylan Moran

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